Article by Phoenix writer Amely Nuñez ’23:
Serving as an altar server has granted me the opportunity to view the Mass in a very intimate and personal light. I have a perfect view of both the altar and the parishioners in the pews. Having seen thousands of congregants, one person in the crowd has stood out to me in particular: the elderly lady who always sits in the second pew.
During my years of altar serving, I’ve noticed this small, reserved lady who always sat in the same spot in the second pew. What caught more of my attention though was the fact that she would always come with a different person.
I observed that the people she brings seem to come from all different backgrounds. Some looked eager to be there, while others seemed like they’d rather be elsewhere. Some were young, and some were much older than she. Nothing was consistent about this alluring woman except the place she sat.
Last week, I decided to have a conversation with her. As I walked towards her, she stared at me, as though she were staring right through my soul. I usually don’t get nervous talking to strangers, but for some reason, I was. This was when I noticed her eyes — she was blind.
To my surprise, she immediately felt my presence and introduced herself to me. After some conversation, I then asked her about the different people she would bring with her each Mass. She smiled slightly, as if she were happy that I noticed. This was when I learned that she was a psychologist, and each of her “guests,” as she referred to them, were actually patients of hers. Intrigued, I kept asking questions. She stated that whenever clients were feeling emotions of emptiness or worthlessness, they tended to ask her what fulfilled her and gave purpose to her life. She told me that she tells them all the same response. Ultimately, the aspect of her life that brought her the most fulfillment was Mass.
After giving her patients this response, she would kindly invite them to join her in going to Mass. She added that, initially, many were opposed to the idea but would later feel a sense that they should give it a try. This week she was accompanied by a shy, middle aged man. She introduced me to him and this was when I was able to learn about his story and why he chose to come, even though he wasn’t Catholic nor believed in God.
He simply said that he decided to come because he was experiencing the tragedy of losing a loved one, in this case, his wife. After being married for 17 years, he lost the person he held closest to his heart. I was surprised at his openness. He was vulnerable, something that society often shuns. He shared that his main struggle regarding grief was how to continue moving forward after losing such an integral part of his life.
The lady then faced and spoke to both of us. She then pointed to the cross around her neck and stated that the Mass, especially the Eucharist, was “the greatest sign of love to exist.” Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross was the ultimate sign of selfless and sacrificial love. She then took the man’s hand and explained that 2000 years later, Jesus’ love was still present and being felt by all his fellow children. She told the man that, although his wife is sadly no longer here, her love for him still lives on. The memories they shared will always be kept safe in his heart. She will be kept alive in the stories he tells about her and the pictures around his home. She said that his wife would be present in his life always, in the same way that Jesus is, as long as he took a moment to realize it. She looked towards our direction with her glossy eyes and said in the most sincere voice, “Love that is true never dies.”
I reflected on this short, yet impactful sentence. I started to comprehend that the love our parents have for us is undying. The love we have for the people in our lives is undying. Most importantly, the love God has for us is true and everlasting. It is in loving that we can find eternal life.
Now as I pray during each Mass, I think of this lovely woman in the second pew and the impact she has on all those she meets.
