Loaves and . . . Fruit Snacks? and 4 O'clocks

Not to distract from the seriousness of the previous week's posts, but. . .

We were in Mass yesterday, and as my toddler has rejected the prospect of staying in the nursery during Mass, even when a nursery is available, we have adopted the habit of bringing several items for her amusement including, I am ashamed to say, a few small but fragrant snack items--Gerber fruit snacks, fruit strips, and breakfast bars (which are crummy, and so only for emergencies). This started because she would sometimes be ready to eat before the end of Mass, and a little something was necessary to keep her quiet. Once she has reached an age of understanding "we don't really eat in . . . X," we will remove the snacks from our routine.

These fruit snacks are softer versions of the ones available to be packed in school lunches--they come in a little pouch and she just loves fishing them out with her little hands until they are all gone, at which point she crumples the bag and we have to do a little minimal noise control. So yesterday, she had eaten her fruit strp and rooted through her little activity bag to find the fruit snacks, which I opened for her and she promptly gobbled up. Several minutes passed, and she made a little noise and, with surprise & triumph, showed me two more fruit snacks rescued from the pew! Now I thought for sure that I had monitored fruit snack consumption so that none escaped. But she ate the two fruit snacks and I returned to trying to listen to--oh, probably the homily at this point. The baby fidgeted a little, walked back and forth on the kneeler in her bare feet, having taken off her shoes during the readings, presumably to sample the texture of the floor and kneeler with her toes. She settled down again, this time between Daddy and Momma instead of between Momma and Brother. And what do you think she found? A yellow, pineapple shaped fruit snack! She again regarded it with pleasure and surprise, promptly dropped it in the pew, recovered it with my help, and ate it happily. So I'm starting to become amused and a little embarassed. I know I monitored the initial consumption of fruit snacks better than that! But these things were multiplying like. . . you guessed it--"loaves and fruit snacks." After all, "fruit snacks" started with the same letter and has the same umber of syllables and the same stress pattern as "fishes." So I had just finished this thought--of questionable taste (unless you ask the daughter, who would have found it delicious, no doubt), when it was time to stand for the Profession of Faith. Guess what? I caught site of yet another fruit snack--on the floor in front of my husband's feet! So amid my amusement, I try to keep my daughter occupied so that she doesn't try to rescue the dead fruit snack from off the floor. Finally, as we sat again, I motioned to my husband, who retrieved the offending object.

I imagined the older woman behind me, who at various points seemed amused by the toddler's antics and perhaps pleased that she wasn't making more of a disturbance, wondering how on earth we focused on the Mass. Well, I think I've realized that the experience of a Mass with family sometimes involves being thankful for the sweet little person who causes such distraction! (And catching what glorious moments we can in between!) At least, that's my answer for yesterday!

* * * * *

On a different subject, Entropy reminded me in her post of the wonders of 4 o'clocks--small flowers that bloom promptly at 4 o'clock (daylight savings time notwithstanding)--that are impossible to kill and have the most wonderful fragrance! She posts a picture. I remember that we had them in the greatest varieties! Yellow & light pink, fuschia, striped. . . My grandmother would always try to cross-pollinate to get new varieties. She would tie little strings around the branches of the ones she pollinated with other colors so that she would remember where the seed would be. Meanwhile, my cousins & sisters would collect the seeds in little piles--they called the not-quite-ripe ones "stripeys" because they were black striped with green.

I haven't had any luck getting them to grow in Texas. I'm not sure if the ground is too hard, or if it's too dry, or what. In New Orleans, you just drop them on the ground and they sprout almost instantly. Here, when I tried to grow some, nothing ever happened. Anyway, it was nice to be reminded of these pretty little flowers.