There he was, waiting for me in the back of the church. His little suit was pressed and his shoes were shined. It was his First Communion Day, and instead of standing with the other children, Little G was waiting in the very last pew of the church for me to pass by as I made my ascent to the choir loft.

His eyes were shining and I couldn’t tell if it was with excitement or with that boyish bashfulness he often showed to me when I frequently stooped in to give him his godmother’s blessing on his forehead.

In his hands was a single pink rose, carefully wrapped with water near the stem to keep it alive. As I walked toward him, he courageously took a step toward me. And like the little man he was, Little G held out the flower and mumbled, “Happy Mother’s Day” to me in a tone that betrayed his memorization.

And oh, my heart! It melted right there in that moment as I took the rose from his hands and stooped down for a hug. I told him just how happy I was that he was going to receive Jesus in just a few minutes and I thanked him for remembering me, even on this, his big day.

You see, this was not the first time Little G remembered me on Mothers Day. In fact, this was an annual tradition that had occurred since the year he was born. Of course his mother had the guiding hand in this endeavor, her knowledge and appreciation of the godparents’ role in her children’s’ lives spearheading this this gift, year after year.

The fruit of this single flower each year is the cause of a much larger gift of purpose in my mother’s heart. It is very very easy, as a single woman waiting for marriage to begin a family, to feel an absence of motherhood in the midst of her singleness. To be perfectly honest, the most I grow to know and cherish the vocation of motherhood and the sacrifice of her life for her children, the more I am tempted to feel the impact of that call unanswered in the recesses of my own heart.

[Others know this pain all too well, and even more than I do, with loss and infertility a constant topic of prayer in my own Catholic community. That is another, braver, stronger post for another day by someone much more qualified than I am.]

When I’m tempted to feel this absence, dear sisters, I stop myself and remember Little G’s red roses – the gifts of each year compiled into one giant bouquet. His gift reminds me that all women are called to maternity and all women are given the chance to live it out in every stage of their lives. It just happens for some in different ways than others.

Some women are spiritual mothers. They hold the care of a child’s soul in their heart and prayers, taking on this responsibility of seeing them to sainthood for their rest of their lives.

Others share their maternal hearts with children as a motherly, grandmotherly, or godmotherly figure. They jump into a hole within a young person’s life, filling the void with love, direction, encouragement, and prayer.

Some women give their maternity through the Church as a religious or consecrated virgin, taking on all souls as their children, with Christ as their spouse.

And all of us, dear sisters can fulfill our call to maternity by looking to Mary as our guide. Alice von Hildebrand explains , “The Blessed Mother’s role in the Incarnation points to the true privilege of being a woman. Both virginity and maternity meet in Mary who exhibits the feminine gifts of purity, receptivity to God’s word, and life-giving nurturance at their highest.”

That’s right! The practice of purity is of itself an act of our maternity. It is a virtue to be practiced by all women in all states of life. . . it reaches out beyond the practical and into the eternal, cultivating the greatest life a woman can give to the world. And for that gift to the world, your heavenly crown will no doubt be strewn with white roses.

Today, dear Single Sister on Mother’s Day – I invite you to join me in celebrating the virtue of purity and cultivating the roses of maternity that Our Lord has placed in your path right now. Be the best mentor you can be, the best godmother you can be, and the best spiritual mother you can be. Your fruitful love, rooted in purity, can only bear an abundance of fruit to be passed down to generations to come.

God bless, Mary