The Churching

Grace had long ago learned how to wake up without moving and without opening her eyes. She would pretend to be asleep and cherish a few precious moments in bed, warm and alone. Harold had woken up an hour or two ago, probably. His side of the bed was alredy cold.
She cherished these last few moments in particular, however, for she knew that today was the last day for a while that she could wake up so late. After her churching she would be expected to get up as early as before.
After a moment she decided to make the best of her churching, too. She would cherish every moment. Then, sleepy-eyed and reluctant, she rolled up and opened her eyes.

She joined her husband and son at the breakfast table. It was very quiet, as usual. Then suddenly Harry asked, "Did mama have another baby?"

"Another?" asked Grace, bewildered. "Isn't Percival enough babies for a few months?"

"Yes," her son admitted readily. I was just wondering why we're going to church today. We went to church when Percy was born, see..."
"You and I did, and Britany, but your mother didn't. Don't you remember?" His father said. "So your mother goes now."
"Why?" Harry inquired.
His father nodded sagely. "Because that's what Father Bede and the Bible tell her to do."

Grace said nothing, but she thought, No, Because I want to! And God...
And standing in Front of Father Zachary an hour later, she still could not help but feel that it was her ritual. Her chuching. All her women freinds were there, from Maria Bede to Lady Arnold, and though her husband and Father Bede were there, she thought perhaps they didn't really understand what they were there for.

"O almighty God, which hast delivered this woman thy servant from the great pain and peril of childbirth: Grant, we beseech thee (most merciful father), that she through thy help... "
What did they know about the pain of childbirth? she thought. It was an evil, bitter thought, she knew, and at first she tried to bury it, but at last she just kept it contained in her slight smile.

"Amen."
She smiled and turned to take from Maria's hands the little lacy cap that Percival had first worn. It was then, as she placed it on the alter, that she was truly thankful--so many women offered up caps of babies that had never opened their eyes to wear them.
Then it was over, and she went to greet the many women who had not seen her for months before her confinement.
"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Pershing," Lady Arnold offered.

"And you." said Grace. There was a silence and then Lady Arnold said, "He's a beautiful baby."
"Thank you."
"I've never seen a boy who looked more like his father at 40 days old."

"They all do," sighed Grace. "My son asked me how come my belly grows so huge if the babies come out looking like Father." They both giggled a little at that.

Grace realized Harry was asking a lot of questions about babies lately, and perhaps her husband had better give him a little lecture soon.
At present, her husband was up near the alter talking to Father Bede.
"I've unwrapped this little man so you might give him and extra blessing, Father."

Her husband always argued about this with Father Zachary when one of his children was churched. Father Zachary said baptism was enough for any child and an extra splash of holy water was a supstitious vanity. But Harold was quite persistant about the blessing, which was a family ritual, and so Father Zachary always gave in, though never before a stern lecture on the evils of superfluous ritual. This time, though, before he could begin his lecture, Maria Bede came over and took young Percival.
"Come, dear. I'll hold this little plumcake for you. There's no harm in a little extra blessing."
And with a quick wink at Grace, she lead her husband, now smiling at his wife's sudden and rare affection, over to the baptismal font.