GRANDMOTHERS AND MOTHERS

 

SO TRUE

“Faith rarely comes from reading a book alone in a corner; instead, it spreads within families, transmitted in the language of mothers, in the sweetly lyrical accents of grandmothers.”

Pope Francis in Canada

I was very moved by the words of Pope Francis when he spoke of the role of mothers and grandmothers in our faith formation. Maybe it touched me because it has been so true of my faith formation and that of so many of the people I know.

My paternal grandmother! I have written about her and talked about her several times in my writings and homilies. Her name was Lillian Delia Mills Knott. "Grandma" was a county midwife who lived across the road from us when I was a child. When my mother was about to give birth to me, my "grandma" was called over to "deliver" me right there in the house. It was a difficult birth. My mother and I both almost died in the process. As a country midwife, my grandmother knew what to do. She baptized me right there in the bed where I was born.

We were especially close growing up. She taught me to grow my own garden, churn butter, grind sausage for her and watch her do many kinds of things so I would "learn how." She didn't talk much, but she allowed me to "be with her" any time I wanted. She lived long enough to attend my First Mass and I knew she had to "be with me" on that important day as well!

The earliest memory I have involves my dear mother, Mary Ethel Mattingly Knott. It occurred on spring afternoon when I was around four years old. I had at least two siblings at that time (one five and one three) so her having time to rock me to sleep would have been almost impossible, but that day it happened! I can remember the sheer curtains waving in the breeze of the open window. I remember it being very still as she hummed and rocked. I experienced what it was like to "sleep in heavenly peace," as the Christmas carol SILENT NIGHT mentions. I am convinced that I experienced a bit of heaven that day in my mothers arms. I still own that rocking chair!

I can remember exactly where I was standing in one of the bedrooms while my mother was trying to teach me the OUR FATHER, HAIL MARY and GLORY BE in preparation for my First Communion. I can still remember her ironing my borrowed, stiff, white "First Communion suit" and dressing me for church, while keeping me away from "breaking my fast" which would have put a halt to the whole event should I eat or drink anything before receiving my First Communion.

They were not literal mothers and grandmothers, but the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth played an important "supportive role" in raising us children. Most of the year, we spent more of the day under their care than we did with our mothers and grandmothers. We learned more about God from them, by far, than from the pastor of the parish. They taught us Catechism, prepared us for the celebration of the Sacraments of Penance, Eucharist and Confirmation. And, yes, I got my first and only clear verbal encouragement from Sister Agnes Bernard (my 7th and 8th grade teacher) the night before I left to go to the seminary.

Last, but not least, I want to celebrate Matilda Hurd Chisley and Martha Jane Tolton, the grandmother and mother of the Venerable Augustus Tolton, the first African American slave in the United States to become a Catholic priest. His grandmother and mother were slave members of my home parish of Saint Theresa (established in 1818) down in Meade County, Kentucky. They are the ones who held onto their Catholic faith through thick and thin and heroically passed it on to the young slave boy, Augustus. Father Tolton's mother, left a single parent with three children, stood with him faithfully before and after his ordination. I give Matilda and Martha Jane the most credit for producing a saint when they passed on our faith to him. I am very proud to know that both he and I learned the Catholic faith mostly from the women who came from our parish of Saint Theresa in Rhodelia.