The Nexus has become a favorite of L’s: she is consistently aware of the battery status and always willing to give a friendly reminder when it’s getting low, which would be daily if we let her use it as often as she would really like to. She learned quickly how to install new games, uninstall boring apps, and customize various aspects of the desktop — for lack of a better term. Promoting interest in all things tablet, in other words, is not a problem.
What is a problem is fostering interest in all things spiritual. Well, in anything spiritual. Perhaps it’s a function of her age as well as her super-hyper personality. Still, we try. We have nightly prayers, but that often turns into something of a spiritual/mental wrestling match. We go to Mass regularly, but she’s always more interested in the playground afterward than anything happening during Mass.
It occurred to me the other day that perhaps joining the two might be fruitful. I installed Laudate, a Catholic missal/prayer/encyclopedia/everything app on both her and my account, and showed her a couple of our nightly prayers this morning after breakfast.
“What’s this?” I asked.
She began to read, “G-l-o-r — Glory be!” She was eager to continue reading: “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be. Amen.” And then, without prompting, without a word from me, she crossed herself: “In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” (She can’t seem to remember to add the proper “of’s” in that prayer…)
We read another, and it was the same. Odd, how ritual forms without us really realizing it. Odd and hopeful.
As for the rest of the day, it was a fairly typical Sunday. Some posing for pictures in her new church clothes, a gift from her godmother in Poland.
And some play time with an ever-dearer friend up the street, W. K and L introduced W to “Super Farmer,” a Polish game that really requires no Polish language skills at all — just a bit of forbearance when an unlucky throw of the dice wipes out all of one’s livestock.
That in itself took a bit of acclimation for the Girl. The first time she tossed “wolf” and lost everything, there was a complete breakdown — crying, shouting, pouting, stomping. Tonight’s final game, the loss of everything brought a calm, “Oh well,” and a gentle passing of the dice.
And where was the Boy throughout all of this, the prayers, the games, the chaos? It all happened during his two naps, leaving him inconveniently out of all the photos. He didn’t seem to mind.