Grant, O Lord,
that none may love You less this day because of me;
that never a word or act of mine may turn one soul from You;
and, ever daring, yet one more grace would I implore:
that many souls this day, because of me may love You more.
Amen.
— Rev. James D. Watkins [via]
![[image: A dairy cow with a pi pattern on its side.]](http://journal.cowpi.com/grafiks/cowpies/pi-on-cow.jpg "A black and white dairy cow with a pi pattern on its side.")
I wonder if she produces 3.14 liters of milk a day?
It is our part to seek,
His to grant what we ask;
ours to make a beginning,
His to bring it to completion;
ours to offer what we can,
His to finish what we cannot.
— St. Jerome [via]
I had the great privilege and honor of being one of the assistants to distribute ashes at our school Mass today. Ashes are a strong symbol for death, and after all, that is the point of Ash Wednesday, to remind us that we all will die. Ashes are also a strong symbol of life, at least they should be for Christians. Death is not an end, but the beginning.
Students stepped up to me, along with a few teachers and parents, and I placed the ashes on their forehead in the shape of a small cross. As I said the words, “Remember, you are dust and to dust you will return,” I thought to myself but I hope they saw in my smile, “You will live. We will meet again in heaven.”
In the dust and ashes—symbols of death—all I could see was life. Afterwards, all I could do was smile and be still in His joy and know a little of God.
And that can only be because of the Cross.
On Ash Wednesday, the traditional words said as one receives ashes are:
Remember, man, you are dust and to dust you will return.
Our school’s deacon has “suggested” a modern, up-to-date version:
Remember, dude, you are dust and like to dust you’ll actually return.