BY DOMINICK ALBANO
T H E ABS OLU TE B EST PA R T A B OUT B EING CAT H O L I C As the pastoral planning initiative Beacons of Light moves forward, Catholic Telegraph writers are meeting with its leaders to bring you the most up-to-date and accurate information, describe how decisions are made and clearly explain what to expect. Visit beaconsaoc.org to sign up for the free Beacons Update newsletter. Nothing is more terrifying than believing your child might die. My knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel as I wove around cars on the road. These people innocently going about their business with no urgency didn’t know my three-week-old son had a blood infection. They didn’t know that if we couldn’t get him treated at Children’s Hospital right away, the infection could travel to his brain and kill him in just a few hours. A thousand things were happening inside me: Fear, anger, despair, sadness. But there were also really practical thoughts like: Who is going to watch the other kids while we are at the hospital? I need to tell my work. I need to call my parents. What’s the fastest route to Children’s? Where do I park? How do I remain strong for my wife? And, of course, all of that was wrapped up in desperate, wordless prayer. And little Ezra wasn’t baptized yet. I grabbed my phone to call a priest to meet us at the hospital… but I had no one to 8 |
THE CATHOLIC TELE G RAPH
call. We just moved to Cincinnati. In our old city, there were a dozen priests I could call who would drop everything to be at the hospital for us. But we were in a new town, and I didn’t know what to do. I had one friend I thought could help. He is passionately Catholic and a Cincinnati native. He answered on the second ring. I frantically explained the situation, my voice cracking under the weight of sadness and fear. He understood quickly and said, “Alright, don’t worry about this. I’ve got it.” There was a priest waiting for us at Children’s Hospital when we arrived. He waited patiently while the hospital processed my son, and – when the moment was right – baptized him in the exam room. I let out a deep breath and squeezed my wife close to my side as we looked on. A moment of grace in the middle of chaos. Father stayed for a while. Very quiet. Rosary in hand. No advice. No words. Just a powerful presence of prayer. Today Ezra is going on his fifth birthday, a healthy, happy, rambunctious little boy with no sign of after-effects from his infection. When you hear the word “Church,” what comes to mind? For many, it’s a combination of buildings, a priestly hierarchy, an institution like a parish or school... maybe even the Pope!
