Introducing Michel Quoist

My 7 year old son is responsible for this post! We had just got back from Mass around noon and had just settled in when my Ann, my wife, let out an anguished cry from Jonathan's (the brat!) room. Somehow, he and his cohorts had during their playtime, managed to break the non-reflective glass frame on one of her favourite pictures which had been tucked away in a carboard box away from preying fingers. This would not have been such a big issue had it not been for the fact that we had repeatedly reminded or rather "threatened!" him time and again not to meddle with such fragile stuff. How naive can we parents be! Well, to cut the story short, he was punished (no abuse took place, that's a statutory declaration) and Ann went back to her chores, and naturally I ended up at the computer. Usual, unexciting, Sunday. Until for some reason, I happened to pick up Michel Quoist's "Prayers of Life" masterpiece.

I can't remember who it was who introduced this particular book to me, but I suspect it was a young seminarian almost to become priest in South Perak, some 15-20 years ago. I remember though, being thoroughly captivated by it. Maybe it resonated so much with the way I was thinking, feeling, hoping, etc. So much so, it has become my favourite prayer book of all time. So, I thought, maybe I should put excerpts of it here so others too may discover its sheer beauty and poignancy. And so, here's the 1st installment - appropriately enough, on children! - brats, in other words. I'm sure you'll enjoy this:

I like youngsters

They brought children for him to touch; and the disciples scolded them for it. But when Jesus saw this he was indignant, and said to them, Let the children come to me; do not try to stop them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will never enter it. (Mark 10, 13-15)

God says: I like youngsters. I want people to be like them. I don't like old people unless they are still children. I want only children in my kingdom; this has been decreed from the beginning of time.

Youngsters - twisted, humped, wrinkled, white-bearded - all kinds of youngsters, but youngsters.

There is no changing it, it has been decided, there is room for no one else. I like little children because my likeness has not yet been dulled in them. They have not botched my likeness, they are new, pure, without a blot, without a smear.

So, when I gently lean over them, I recognise myself in them. I like them because they are still growing, they are still improving. They are on the road. They are on their way.

But with grown ups, there is nothing to expect anymore. They will no longer grow up. They will no longer improve. They have come to a full stop.

It is disastrous. Grown ups think they have arrived.

I like youngsters because they are still struggling, because they are still sinning. Not because they sin - if you understand me - but because they know that they sin, and they say so, and they try not to sin anymore.

But I don't like grown-ups, they never harm anyone, they have nothing to reproach themselves for. I can't forgive them, I have nothing to forgive. It is a pity, because it's not true.

But above all, I like youngsters because of the look in their eyes. In their eyes I can read their age.

In my heaven, there will only be 5 year old eyes, for I know of nothing more beautiful than the pure eyes of a child. It is not surprising, for I live in children, and it is I who look out through their eyes.

When pure eyes meet yours, it is I who smile at you through the flesh. But, on the other hand, I know of nothing sadder than the lifeless eyes in the face of a child.

The windows are open but the house is empty. Two eyes are there but no light. And, saddened, I stand at the door, and wait in the cold and knock. I am eager to get in. And he, the child is alone. He fattens, he hardens, he dries up, he gets old. Poor old fellow!

Alleluia! Alleluia! Open, all of you, little old men!
It is I, your God, the Eternal, risen from the dead, coming to bring back to life the child in you.
Hurry! Now is the time. I am ready to give you again the beautiful face of a child....

For I love youngsters, and I want everyone to be like them.