I just took up my place in right field

Happy Mother's Day!

My poor little blog has been so ignored for the last month (or more). There are reasons for that and I'll get to a newsy post soon. Today, though, I want to share how my Domestic Church touched this mother's heart.

Earlier in the week, I was asked how I'd like to spend Mother's Day. Getting a wonderfully made breakfast is a given since my boys really enjoy cooking. And I agreed to bacon, making Zydeco's own heart sing. My usual answer to how I'd like to spend a leisurely day is "sewing without the pressures of a schedule." 

But this time, I asked my family to stretch themselves. The company I am working for has a wonderful branch that encourages and supports community involvement and volunteerism. We certainly do both of those in this Domestic Church, in many ways and forms, but the company offers new and various avenues we've not explored.  My family agreed to try something very new.

We donned our logo'd tee shirts and headed across the water to help with a very special Little League game: a game for special needs children. Explanation of the Challenger Jamboree is here. We all stepped outside of our comfort zones to "buddy" a child during the ball game. We played in the field, cheering and offering encouragement while also providing a watchful eye. We stood near home plate while our buddy player swung at pitches or a tee, then ran with them around the bases.

(No pictures of the game because I thought it insensitive to photograph other peoples' children).

Classic Rock, a true football fan, put aside his baseball prejudice and really enjoyed his time in the field with his buddy. Irish Jig didn't ask any questions about why a child walked a little differently or didn't speak quite as well, thankfully. She just accepted the fun offered to her by the small boy we buddied. I love the innocence of the young.

The rock star today was Jazz. She was so nervous and anxious about befriending someone with a special need. Would she be able to communicate? To share? She was buddy to a girl just about her age but with a slower speech pattern. The girl took Jazz's hand and ran her around the bases, laughing and enjoying every minute of the attention. And Jazz relished in giving it to her - all her qualms vanishing in an instant.

Today, I am so very thankful to be mother to these amazing children. I'd like to believe their hearts are generous because of the nurturing from Mr. Neoclassic and me, but I know the hand of God is playing their hearts to His tune. I'm just along for the beautiful, amazing ride.

***
On a slightly humorous note, when I received the logo tees from the HR department, they didn't have a tee tiny enough for Irish Jig.  Knowing she'd feel left out, I pulled a navy tee from her stash and traced her small hand on the front.  I used day-glo orange fabric paint to create a helping hand logo so that hers would mostly match ours.  She was thrilled!  It's the small things that really make us happy, right?

Today's post title is from Peter Paul and Mary's Right Field.  So appropriate since Irish Jig, our buddy child, and I played in right field today.  And, as my parents can attest, that's the position I played during my high school Catholic Youth sports league tenure!