Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Catholic
As The Snow

As The Snow

Last updated on: February 10, 2018 at 2:16 am by Mary Pezzulo

As The Snow 2018-02-10T02:16:55-04:00 Mary Pezzulo

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

Readers of my blog sometimes tell me I’m brave, but I’m actually not. I’m feisty in writing but a cowardly mouse in person. Sometimes, in crowded social settings, I go completely mute.

It’s embarrassing, which adds to my panic and then I’m even worse.

It’s especially bad at church and church-related social functions. Frequent readers know how much I love my tiny Byzantine Catholic church. But frequent readers also know I’ve been spiritually abused, and church is difficult. Even church I love is difficult, and it often hurts.

I usually attend liturgy but stay home from social engagements, but recently I went to a church party for my daughter’s catechism class. I told myself it’d be fun, but it wasn’t. I felt the panic start after only fifteen minutes.

I left Rosie with my husband, and went to have a cry by myself.

I walked around the neighborhood for awhile, ashamed of being such a coward, calling myself a catalog of insulting names because I’d made myself look sillier than ever. It flurried a little, but the snow didn’t stick. Snow in the dark is an excellent, hypnotic consolation for angry tears. The way it seems to materialize out of nowhere just a few inches from my face always distracts me; the way it muffles all ambient sound is comforting. It’s like a sensory blanket that’s also a cold washcloth for my eyes.

There was apparently an apparition or some kind of private devotion called Our Lady of the Snows, but I don’t know anything about it. I don’t really like apparition culture, because of my past. The name appeals to me, though. I like to think of Our Lady appearing out of nowhere with a big muffling blanket and a cold washcloth for my eyes. Not Our Lady of the Snows, but Our Lady as the snow.

I walked back to the church. There’s a large, decidedly non-Eastern statue of Our Lady in its own niche under the long porch roof that goes along the front of it, and behind the statue is a downhill drop and a long staircase that leads to the social hall. I could watch for the end of the party while hiding by the statue. I saw the hired Saint Nicholas impersonator leaving the building, going quickly toward the parking lot; I heard a little boy from Rosie’s catechism class calling out that he knew he wasn’t the real Saint Nicholas, he wasn’t going back to Heaven, he was only going to his car.

The door shut again, leaving me to the statue and the cold.

I don’t like that statue. I like Theotokos as she appears on icons, all rich colors and mysterious symbolism, but this is not an Eastern depiction of Our Lady. It’s Our Lady of Grace in a sky-blue veil, a larger version the same kind of statue that the rich people who are working to make the poor in my neighborhood homeless have outside their houses. The people I knew growing up, to whom Eastern Catholicism was an oddity, kept images like that. Practically everybody I knew had one. It reminds me too much of where I’ve been. Besides, this statue is on a pedestal just the right height that if I leaned in to venerate it, I’d end up kissing the black snake under her feet.

I didn’t venerate the statue. I didn’t kneel and do a reverence; the sidewalk was too cold. I sat on the bench beside her and cried again.

Theotokos was there, arms open in that awkward way, on top of the snake at eye-level. I don’t know why that particular stilted pose irritated me so much. Icons are full of stilted poses, but they seem so much more lively and truthful to me than Our Lady in a powder-blue veil, arms out like a jet plane.

The air was icy and still all around.

“Do something,” I prayed, hoping she’d fix me and make me stop crying, but she didn’t.

“What do you expect me to do?” I asked her.

She was silent, arms open, standing on that snake, her bare pink feet just the right level to step on my head.

“I should just leave and never come back,” I said.

She remained.

So did I, somehow.

I cried again.

When Rose was five days old, she had colic, and there was nothing I could do. The simethecone drops didn’t work. Massage didn’t work. Baths didn’t work for more than a short time. All I could do was hold her and rock. I rocked from midnight til five in the morning, night after night, whispering “here’s Mommy! Here’s Mommy!” over and over until we both dropped off from exhaustion. When she was six months old, she got her finger caught in a door. She was inconsolable. I couldn’t do anything to make the bruise go away. I couldn’t even hold her still enough to take an ice pack for the swelling. All I could do was sit with her and hold her, whispering “Here’s Mommy! Here’s Mommy.”

Rosie’s been a very healthy child, for the most part, but a few weeks before the party she got into some wheat by mistake. She has a sensitivity to wheat. It gives her terrible constipation and stomachaches every time she has so much as a bite, and this time was no exception. She sat up in bed sobbing at three o’clock in the morning, and there was nothing I could do. I took her in bed with me and held her, I rubbed her back, I talked to distract her. And then I was back to where I was six and a half years ago– albeit on a different bed in a different part of Steubenville, holding a much taller and lankier child. “It’s all right. It will be over soon. I’m here. Mommy’s here. Here’s Mommy! Here’s Mommy. Here’s Mommy.”

I have come to believe that that is the most important job of a mother: being present when there’s nothing you can do. There’s plenty you have to do as a mother, as well, but I think our mettle is most especially tested when there’s nothing at all we can do. We just have to sit there, watching our beloved children cry, and be present. Here’s Mommy.

Our Lady is the best mother there could ever be, which means she’s the best at being present. She doesn’t usually intervene with a miracle, and I’ve already admitted that can’t say why this is true. Most of the time she’s just there, present to her awkward and socially hopeless daughter. A plaster statue to hide behind. An awkward distraction in the dark. A muffling sensory blanket of white and a cold washcloth for my eyes. These are some of the things Our Lady is.

She remained with me until I had to go back in.

Not Our Lady of the Snows, but Our Lady as the snow.

(image via Pixabay)

mourn with those mourn

Our Lady of the Snows

Previous Post

February 9, 2018

Immigrants are Struggling. Here's How You Can Help

Next Post

February 11, 2018 Here Comes Lent 2018

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category abortion Abuse Advent America American Christianity angel angels Annunciation Appalachia apparition apparition chaser apparition chasers apparition culture art art review babies baby baby Jesus Bad Lip Reading bad statue contest bath beauty Bible story blog blogkeeping blood book review Brandon Sanderson breastfeeding bus Catholic catholic conspiracy alarmism Catholic Oppositional Disorder Charismatic Renewal Charlie the Cat chastity Christ Christian idenitity Christianity and Judaism Chronic Illness clean clothing COD piece comedy compassion conscience conspiracy theory conversion cop-on-black violence Crucifixion cry of the poor culture Daesh Daily Saints death death penalty devotional diaconate diaper diapers dirty disability Donald Trump Dorothy Day dream drugs Eastern Catholicism Eastern Christianity education election election update Elsewhere on Patheos empathy environment Fear feminism film review fish flashback fluffy buns food Franciscan University of Steubenville Friendship Room fun Gabriel gardening gospel hair-splitting Heaven hell heresy Hillary Clinton history Holly the Witch Holy Spirit holy war Homeschooling homosexuality horror human dignity humor Icon idol immigrants infection inter-religious dialogue Interpretation of Scripture Islam Jesus Jihad Joseph joy laity and lay vocations lamb dinner laundry lent lgbtq literature love manners Mary Medicine and Science Meditation mercy mess milk misogyny Missouri monasticism monster motherhood mourn with those mourn movies movis music mystery nature neurodiversity New Pro-Life Movement news nonsense nostalgia O antiphons obituary objectification Ohio Valley Ordinary Time ordination Ordo Amoris parable paradox Passover peanut butter personal beliefs pets philosophy Planet Charismatic poetry politics polls poop Pope Francis Pope Leo power in the Church prayer prayer request prayers preferential option for non-violence president presidential election priest primary private revelation pro-life prophecy Public face of Catholicism Pure Flix Q and A race racism random rape rape. sexuality reader's request Reckoners refugee religious trauma ressurrection Right to life Saints saints and celebrations same-sex same-sex marriage satire scandal secular feasts seder Seven Joys Seven Last Words sex sexual ethics sexuality silencing six months skid row slavery social justice Speculative fiction spiritual abuse spoon stain story suffering suffrage suffragette Sunday Gospel temple Tenebrae Responsories Terror the exorcist The Friendship Room The New Pro-Life Movement Things I Learned on the Internet tin cup traffic true story tv review Uncategorized USCCB vice and temptation violence Virtue virtue and vice war Way of the Cross whimsy whole life women's ordination work of mercy Year A

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Which book contains a prophecy about locust swarms devastating the land?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Joel Micah Hosea Obadiah