As a child, I remember these beautiful statues my parents had in their bedroom above the bureau. I remember fondly looking at their faces....the faces of the Holy Family. I remember details like St. Joseph's staff was able to move in and out of his hand (which I thought was pretty neat). My heart hurt when I saw the Christ Child's hand fall off of its arm, and then I would try to put it back on. I don't know what my sisters remember from those statues, but I have wonderful memories gazing at the Holy Family and knowing I felt so much love from being around them.
Reflecting on Father's sermon today made me really think about my own childhood. I am so grateful for the order my parents set in the home. I think of the little things that remind me of why I felt so much love and respect for them. My mother was so attentive to us as children and taking care of our needs. I have vivid memories of her sitting next to us in bed when I was around three or four years old helping us with our nighttime prayers. "Ave Maria" was my first prayer. She would say a line, and I remember repeating each word feeling so excited to be spending time with my mother (by the way, the prayer is Hail Mary in Portuguese for my English readers). My mother displayed how to have an orderly home, and how important it was to attend Mass. What a courageous woman to take three little girls to Mass. I could not imagine doing that on my own!
My father is a man to fear and love at the same time. Is that possible?! Yes. He meant business, and I did not want to disappoint him. He represented God's love for me in my life, and whether or not he knows this, he still does. St. Joseph was called to leave Bethlehem for the child was not safe, and they needed to leave immediately. My father made some important decisions similar to St. Joseph, and made moves for our family to help better our lives. I am so thankful that he made those decisions, because it brought us closer to each other. St. Joseph worked hard and with his hands. I think that was something that was very important to me with finding a husband. I always admired my mother for her hands with how feminine they were, and the same thing about my father. I noticed how strong and manly they were. So, in case you are wondering, yes, I noticed how manly Jordan's hands were as well.
I prayed at Mass today for the family who raised me-----my sisters who helped guide, pray, and sacrifice for me-----and for the little family Jordan and I have started. I teared up and felt so consoled when I saw the new statue that arrived at church this morning. It brought back such wonderful memories of looking at my parents' statues. It's such a beautiful representation of the Holy Family. The Christ Child looking at Heaven and the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph lovingly holding His hands.
Well look who showed up for the statue party.....Uncle Josh!
Lately around the house Philomena has been pretending to be Super Mary with a head covering. She also loves looking at pictures of the saint she is named after. "My saint, my saint. Saint Fiwamena!"
This was what Jordan found underneath the wallpaper. 
