Trinity Sunday

When I was a wee kindergartener (over forty years ago!) our family belonged to Holy Trinity parish in Norfolk, Virginia.  It was an old established parish, one of the oldest in the city.  A walk to the beach and a short drive to the Navy base where my Dad was stationed, the air smelled of the sea and flower gardens and history. Stone walls and high hedges cloistered an old convent on the block-long grounds, a magnificent magnolia tree shaded the two-story K-8 school building -- and looking down on everything and everyone carved in bas relief high upon the facade of the church was an enormous crucified Christ.

 In my kindergartener's perspective the stone-carved crucifix was as-big-as-God-must-really-be. It hung over the main doors of the church, dominating the architecture of the entire block.  From my classroom on the first floor across the street, I had to crane my neck clear heavenward to see up into His face.  He looked down and I looked up, and, though the eyes on the crucifix were hard stone, the reality of Him somewhere-up-there was as real as the guardian angel sitting on my shoulder.  And the real  Face I saw was kind and gentle and soft to touch.

 Later on, when I was an eighth grader looking out the second-story windows, Christ's arms were eye-level, outstretched, and welcoming. I couldn't quite catch His eye any more because He looked downward.  But I knew He was thinking of me; He often startled me into remembering Him when my mind and eyes wandered out the window during class time.   Caught again!  I could imagine in my mind's eye the twinkle in His eye as he nudged my attention back to my work with a tilt of His head. And I'd glance over at the flowers on the magnolia tree peeking into the side windows, take a drought of the heady fragrance coming in the open windows and tell Him, "Alright, alright..."  and turn back to square roots -- knowing He was still watching -- and I really had no choice. 

No getting around it.  There was the Son, together with the Father, the Holy Ghost -- the Holy Trinity, the patrons of our school --  all around us like the scent of the magnolias, like the big old tree itself, planted and taking root under us and in us, shading us, looking over us like the giant crucified Christ. It didn't matter where I was, I couldn't hide from Him.   The Holy Trinity, the real Being of God, present in my little baby soul at Baptism, had taken a deep breath and filled my lungs within the walls of my kindergarten classroom at Holy Trinity school.  A half century of dear teaching Sisters fanned the very air with that breath of God, and it swirled through the hallways and out the doors to the rose gardens behind the convent walls, curling through the walls of the convent and the rectory, out even to the seesaws on the playground and back to its beginning, under the giant crucifix, through the doors of the church, and into the door of the tabernacle...

  Where I still find Him today, under the much smaller crucifix at our little parish church.  Like the magnolia, the Blessed Trinity waits there, as always, to fill the corners of my soul and my life and all I have to do is take a deep breath and fill my lungs.

OFFERING TO THE HOLY TRINITY

MOST Holy and Adorable Trinity, One God in Three Persons, I praise Thee
and give Thee thanks for all the favors Thou has bestowed upon me. Thy
goodness has preserved me until now, I offer Thee my whole being and
in particular, all my thoughts, words, and deeds, together with all the trials I may
undergo this day. Give them Thy blessing. May Thy divine Love animate them
and may they serve Thy greater glory.

I make this morning offering in union with the Divine intentions of Jesus Christ
Who offers himself daily in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and in union with
Mary, His Virgin Mother and our Mother, who was always the faithful handmaid
of the Lord.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. Amen.




A Blessed Feast of the Holy Trinity to Everyone!

*Repost from 2011