by Sr Nunother
A month or so ago, I sat a row behind an infant in church. Her entire focus for much of the service was upward. All of the action — clergy procession, organ playing, choir singing, readings from the ambo — was at ground level. None of these interfered with her upward concentration. She made contented sounds as if a discussion were in process. I decided it must be angels, although I had no proof. And I admit to a certain amount of jealousy, as I fought to simply keep my mind on the service. Fast forward to last Sunday. During Lauds, I became aware of luminous white mist gathering above the altar. I waited in awe for it to manifest itself into at least one angel, although I hoped for three. It took several minutes before I realized the mist was actually smoke from the incense, doused in sunlight, with a dash of breeze from an open window. Oh well. That same Sunday, a newborn was presented to the congregation and received prayers in preparation for her baptism. As her father carried her back from the altar, her face was turned upward with that same rapt expression I’d witnessed before. I’m convinced that our two newest members, in their innocence and absolute trust, see what I’m unable to see but is most surely there.