I was going to start off with a couple snarky comments about living in New Hampshire this close to presidential elections, not to mention only a couple miles from the single busiest street in Manchester. That was this morning.
This afternoon my five year-old daughter came home with a note telling us that a classmate had lost a parent to suicide over the Christmas break. From the little we can gather without digging the girl is taking it as well as can be expected, perhaps protected at least in part by her youth.
Needless to say, all my snark is a little tuckered out at this. It is a strange irony that we just heard one of my most favorite passages in the Old Testament, the priestly blessing of Numbers 6:24-26:
O Lord, we make this prayer for this young girl and her family. Draw them close to your Sacred Heart and shower on them the many graces of Your Love. Knowing, Lord, that we know not what was in her parent’s heart at that fateful moment and knowing that Your power is not bounded by time, we pray for the soul of this most unfortunate parent. May they be granted the grace of final repentance and may they be ushered into your Kingdom where there is no more want, no more hurt, no more pain. Mother Mary, shield them all in your mantle and console them as you consoled the Apostles after that day at Golgotha. May they find in this cross a love that knows no bounds, a grace that knows no ends.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine:
et lux perpetua luceat eis.