Bringing Back the Godly in Godparents

He gave me a book with a girl that had red curly hair in it. That wasn’t special. The music box that came with the book was.

He gave me a wooden jewelry box, hand-carved. That wasn’t special. The secret compartment in it was.

I wrote him letters starting with the address, “Dear Uncle Nowell…” That wasn’t special. The hand-written note I would get in response was.

After his death, I found a painting of St. Therese of Lisieux. That wasn’t special. The newspaper clipping I found of her was.

He told me I looked like an angel on the day of my First Communion. That wasn’t special. The fact that he said it, is what made it special.

All of these special moments in my life stem from my relationship with him, the elderly bachelor who lived in a small town four hours away from my home. He was the one who made us coke bottles ornaments we hung from our ceiling every year. He was the one who made all of his nieces wooden jewelry boxes with a secret compartment inside it for our tenth birthday. Through the gifts he bestowed, he taught me what it is to love.

The consummate teacher, he tried to communicate with us to the end, even when his speech was slow and his breathing labored. When I went to visit him at my aunt’s house in his hospital bed, it was touching to see the cards I had written to him taped to the wall. I like to believe that he would have taken special pleasure to read mine, since we had a special relationship by virtue of his title and role. This artist/professor/genius of the family was my godfather.

Everything he ever did for me is imprinted on my memory because of our relationship. As a little girl, I knew there was something significant about the fact that he was my godfather. Only now am I beginning to unravel the gifts and meaning of that special role he played in my life.

Reflecting on my own godfather’s importance in my life helps me to take my role as godmother of three beautiful nieces more seriously. The Catechism of the Catholic Church illuminates this special role of godparents, “who must be firm believers, able and ready to help the newly baptized.” It goes on to say that the whole church shares in the role of “the development and safeguarding of the grace given at Baptism” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 1255).

One of my resolutions this year is to live up to my oldest godchild, Grace’s, expectations of me. In her Christmas gift to me entitled, “15 things I love about you” written on 15 playing cards, two of them were especially poignant. I view these statements in a more challenging than complimentary way. She said: “I love how holy you are,” and “I love how you always have time for me.” This reminds me what she expects of me as her godmother. May God help me to live up to her expectations.