During the Christmas season, it's so easy to imagine Jesus as a baby. From there, we can imagine Mary, a young mother who assented to God's holy will and held the baby so tenderly in the stable cave. Then, almost suddenly, the liturgy brings us to Jesus as a grown man being baptized by His cousin John. This year, with a new baby of my own, I've been considering those "hidden years," the years when Jesus was physically the center of Mary's life and during which theirs was the closest possible relationship.
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He came as a baby for her. There is no experience like that of mothering an infant that so completely requires incessant self-giving, while at the same time filling and nurturing the one who gives. The first lesson in holiness that the Blessed Mother learned was to go to her God again and again and again, day and night. She learned to keep Him with her, probably right up against her chest, all the time. We know this to be the foundation of growing in sanctity as mothers: keep Him with us all the time. He taught her to love completely and fully and He filled her with Himself. And then, He was a 2-year-old.
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