Say "When"...or...My Cup Runneth Over

Maria Culinae

When I was a child my mom would always say, "Say when..." while pouring our drinks. We weren't to say, 'stop', or, 'that's enough' or any such thing. We had to say, 'When'. I recall a time as she was pouring cream into my dad's tea that he didn't give her the magic words and suffice to say, his cup ranneth way over. She had us trained right and we were sure not to make the same mistake Dad had. 

Dad worked long hours away from home to provide for us. He trusted that the fruits of his labors provided for us and that Mom would dole out to us all that we needed while he was away. Indeed, Mom was an expert at delivering open-face peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches to us. Just a flip to her wrist and the topless treat would sail over the table to each child, landing expertly at our table setting. (Mom was efficient as well as entertaining).  She served us well from the bounty and we knew that the gifts we had were from the sacrifice of Dad, and we were thankful.

I have a little child's play coffee cup that I sometimes put little clover flowers that my granddaughters give me. Now I've found a more entertaining way to display the cup as it fits perfectly in Our Lady's hand. She's my little Mary of the Kitchen and now she's got this empty cup, spilling over, and I contemplate this little image. Contemplation really needn't be anything too heady, at least not for me.

Today I thought of this image as I finished up my rosary in the church across the street. The fifth Glorious Mystery, Mary Queen of Heaven. We say that as Mary was crowned queen, that Jesus gave to her the honor of bestowing His graces and blessings on us. I know all too well the objections from those outside of the Catholic family...I was there once too. But, as I think of this little image, I think of how my dad sacrificed for us. I think of how he entrusted Mom to distribute the blessings to his children. It didn't take away from what he did for us or make us feel we couldn't go to him. In the same way, Mary is doling out blessings that come not from her, but from Him. Those blessings are abundant and fly through the spiritual air as expertly as a PBJ landing on the dinner plate of our hearts. And it's the Father that I thank.

I think too, that I don't want to say 'when', but to just let that cup run over and over. I have the best of the best of servers, the Handmaid of the Lord. He is the Master Chef and satisfies every hunger and thirst until He receives me at the banquet table in Heaven. 

Maybe then I'll say, 'When'.
 

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