The following was written by HandyGramps in October & posted in their church's monthly newsletter for the month of November. With his permission, I am sharing it here.
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A Love Story Like None Other
A few days after it was discovered
that the baby had died in utero,
Maria passed what looked to be some kind of tissue. Realizing that it could be the baby, she
carefully preserved it in a brine solution and took it to her doctor. The doctor confirmed that it was, indeed, the
baby. Maria knew that because it was a
baby, a proper disposition of the remains was needed: the baby would be buried
with all the sacredness and dignity of a Catholic burial. That evening, the whole family – Maria, Matt,
children The Prophet, The Archangel, The Princess, & The Saint – talked over what had happened. Together, they decided that if the baby was
to be buried, a name was in order. After
some discussion they all decided on Francis Mary – Francis in case it was a
boy, Mary if it was a girl. (Now, if you
think about it, that’s not all that odd.
Many nuns have taken names such as Margaret Joseph, and monks have taken
the likes of Bernard Mary.)
Maria located an organization called
Back
In His Arms Again (www.backinhisarmsagain.com) that dealt with babies
that do not make it full term. With
their help, she arranged for a burial in Resurrection
Cemetery near Lewis
Center, north of Columbus.
A new plot had just been designed for babies just like Francis Mary. It’s still being developed and has not yet
been consecrated by Bishop Campbell.
Maria asked me if I would do a memorial service at the cemetery, and of
course, I agreed. It was decided that
Friday, October 4, would be the day.
After we decided on readings and the
form of the service, I began to think about what words I would say. I’ve done a lot of funerals over the years,
and I either know the person from the parish or I usually have a chance to meet
with the family if I don’t know them. That
helps determine what I would say in a homily.
But, what could I say about an unborn child, especially my own
grandchild? For some reason, I decided
to wear a red shirt with a red and black tie with crosses on it. As I was putting them on, the Holy Spirit
smacked me upside the head (as the Spirit often does). Suddenly, I knew what I would say.
Life has a purpose, but what purpose
is there to a life so quickly ended?
What purpose could there possibly be for Francis Mary, whose life never
came to full term? The color red gave me
my answer. It is the fire of true
Christian love.
You see, Francis Mary was
loved with a love that was anticipated even before conception because Maria and
Matt had wanted another baby. There are
countless millions of babies just like Francis Mary, many whose lives ended in
the womb through abortion. Those babies
never knew love in this world. Yes, they
are certainly loved by God, and that is certainly more than sufficient. But they never knew the love of mothers and
fathers who wanted them. They were
simply disposed of. That, I believe,
defined Francis Mary’s purpose in life.
Like them, Francis Mary’s life ended
in the womb; so, in that respect, they would be able to identify with Francis
Mary. The way I see it, thanks to the
prompting of the Holy Spirit, Francis Mary was conceived, and then taken to
Heaven, in order to let them know that they are indeed loved in this world as
well as in Heaven. The very love that
created Francis Mary, the love between Maria and Matt, the love of their four children,
is the love that Francis Mary was created for, a special love to take to all
those millions who never knew love here on Earth. Thanks to Francis Mary, they would know that there
are countless people on Earth who truly love them.
And, you know, the story does not
end there. As Maria and Matt said their
morning prayer the day of the memorial service, Maria realized that October 4
was the feast of St. Francis of Assisi.
So maybe, just maybe, Francis Mary is a boy.
God works in mysterious ways.
(HandyGramps, October 2013)
(HandyGramps, October 2013)
