The Night Feed

It's dark. I'm sucking my thumb but it's not helping, everything is hazy, I'm not quite awake. My throat makes little groaning noises but I'm concentrating on my thumb so I don't listen to them. I hear a rustle of fabric and a yawn. I hear a click and there is light. My eyes close a little but I relax. Mummy is coming.

Her hands slot under my arms. Firmly, she pulls me up and out of the cot. Everything is still misty. It might be a dream but I smell her. She holds me and I am warm and safe.

I am nestled in her arms. She brings me close to her. She is soft, I burrow closer. Then the milk comes - too fast to begin with and I come up gasping and spluttering. She lets me try again, I drink it in with long draws, it is clear and refreshing at first and then rich and creamy. It is warm in my mouth. I can feel how it travels down to fill my stomach. I feel as though I could drink all night and still want more, I pull in more.

I hear breathing. I look up. There is Daddy's back. The covers have fallen down past his shoulders. I watch. Perhaps he will move. Mummy is looking at me. She brings me back and I remember the milk. I drink quickly, hurrying to take in as much as I can.

Her arms surround me again. I don't remember where I am. I lean into her shoulder as she picks me up. I see the room moving around us. We walk a few steps and then she swings me around and down. I land softly in the cot. She arranges my blankets and tucks the fluffy bear in beside me. Her face pulls away and she stands to leave me. I feel her hand pat my tummy. I feel safe. Where is my thumb?

The dark comes back with a click. My thumb finds my mouth. I watch the blackness disappear behind my eyelids. I can't remember where I am. My thoughts fade, I hear breathing, I remember Mummy and Daddy.

Honour

Honour your father and your mother (Ex 20:12)

I saw a conversation recently on a mums’ internet forum that asked contributors ‘What makes you feel like a Mum?’ A lot of the answers were about the little things like finding toys or snacks at the bottom of your handbag – as annoying as that is, it does send a warm glow through you! For many though, the most poignant moments of motherhood come when their child looks to them for comfort - when they are hurt, upset or frightened and it is Mother they turn to.

It is only very recently that my son has developed the habit of crying when I pass him to someone new for a cuddle. As bad as I feel for the poor people whose affection he rejects so cruelly, there is a wonderful sense of satisfaction in being the person he comes back to, the one who can stop him crying. That is what makes me know that I am a mother. It makes me feel wanted and needed, in coming back to me every time, in seeking me out for reassurance he distinguishes me, sets me apart from everyone else. In fact, to me, it is an honour to be the person that he needs. He honours me just by wanting me; thus in a way he fulfills the commandment to ‘honour your father and your mother’ without even knowing it. I know too that my own parents would hate to think that in my hour of need that I would hesitate to call upon them. They recently impressed upon me exactly how quickly they would rush to be by my side if the need arose. I hope that they would be honoured to know that they will be my first call if my husband and I are ever in need.

What does the commandment to ‘honour your father and mother’ really mean? Before I was a parent I always imagined it meant to obey them, but now I think there is more to it than just that. Parenthood is a wonderful state but also one that is scary. Scary because there is such responsibility attached. The physical, emotional and spiritual wellbeing of my child now lies entirely in my hands and those of my husband. To achieve in any of these areas I need one thing from my son. I need him to recognise my parenthood. As he grows up that recognition will take many forms. As a toddler and young child he will need to learn to listen to his parents and do as they say. When he is older he will need to discover how to trust our judgement and our care for him.  Older still and he will have to respect our values. None of this will come without trials and difficulty, patience will be required on both sides, of course. One essential element, however, will remain the same through it all. If I live to one hundred, and he is seventy-five, I will still want him to come to me when he needs comfort. I believe that that is the very simplest and most fundamental way a child can acknowledge and give honour to a parent.

Natually, this idea finds a parallel in the Christian relationship with God as Father. It is not only when we sing his praises that we give God honour, but also when we, like Christ at Gethsemane, bring our deepest fears and most painful experiences to him in prayer. In so doing, we recognise that it is God who can truly offer comfort, who can enable us to shoulder the burden, who can refresh our thirsty souls. Here, prayer and worship are again intertwined. As with God the Father, so with Mary the Mother of the Church, we do her honour not only when we proclaim the scriptural greeting ‘Hail Mary, full of grace’ but right through to our humble request: ‘pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.’

So we are called to honour both our earthly and our heavenly parents by acknowledging and respecting their parenthood. By valuing our parents’ opinions, by respecting their judgements, by acknowledging their care and by seeking them out in times of hardship.