Monday, March 28, 2005


Susan Konig writes:

When I saw The Passion of the Christ, the moment that affected me the most was Mary trying to get to Jesus as he labored under the cross through the streets of Jerusalem. A disciple led her through the back streets past the crowds to her son and the whole time I'm thinking, what will she say when she gets to him? What could anyone say to someone who is suffering so much, who is so seemingly without hope? When she finally reaches him she says the perfect thing — the words any child wants to hear from his mother, "I'm here." . . .

I've been thinking about this a lot lately — I'm writing this on Good Friday. Watching Terri Schiavo's tragedy unfold in front of the world, I think of the videotape where her mom moves her daughter's head to be able to look into her face and suddenly Terri's eyes brighten and she seems to smile. Her mother, Mary Schindler, is there saying, "I'm here."

What else is a mother to do? . . .

Her parents . . . have no such barriers to their interest in their daughter's well being. And they have not been visiting an unconscious person all these years. They have interacted with the disabled person their daughter has become. Being able to touch her, to nurture her, and to get a smile or a sound from her seems to have been enough for the woman and her mom and dad.

Your child is always your child. And the thing that a parent can do for a child as long as they live is to always be able to tell them, "I'm here."

Read the whole thing.


Terri allowed communion. If she had not been, would federal marshalls have intervened?