It does take a village to rear a child
13th September 2016 · 0 Comments
By Fr. Jerome LeDoux
Contributing Columnist
“By now, you must have heard about the 3-year-old boy who drowned in a swimming pool during a poolside birthday celebration for him and his little cousin.
His mother is a second cousin of mine through my mother. If no one has contacted you yet, I suspect that someone will soon. I would like to attend the funeral, but, since my younger brother died last year, I am afraid that I would break down.”
That poignant call came from a friend in Houston. Almost immediately after her call, Father Lambert, the pastor here at Holy Ghost Church in Opelousas, asked me to celebrate the homegoing for the little boy. At his suggestion, I went straight to the parish office to meet with the child’s mother, father, grandmother and uncle.
The air was thick enough to cut as I entered the room. After introductions, I began to reflect, ‘There are no words adequate to explain what happened to little AJ. We adults try to keep track of small children, but that is always a daunting task, and all the more when little boys are in the mix. While little girls are ahead with a bit of maturity and healthy fear, little boys are drawn to testing things, especially water.
And they are so quick that they move in a blink of your eye or turn of your head. I say repeatedly that I don’t know how little boys manage to survive to manhood.’
“We were all close together around the pool,” Clara, the mother of Antonio’s mother, observed. “AJ was sitting beside the water and the next thing we knew he was lying on the bottom of the pool. It happened too quickly for us to understand.”
Louisiana State Representative Dustin Miller, brother of AJ’s mother, Tamika, sprang into action together with several who jumped into the pool and hoisted AJ up to the side. Dustin, whose regular job is that of Nurse Practitioner, managed to revive AJ’s heartbeat by administering CPR. AJ survived on a respirator from Saturday to Monday, but succumbed at length because he was brain-dead.
Ironically, AJ was literally surrounded by nurses at the pool. His mother Tamika is an RN, as is her mother, Clara. Dustin’s wife is an RN, his mother-in-law is an LPN, and Dustin’s wife’s cousin, their daughter’s Godmother, is an RN. With that many adult and trained, caring eyes at hand right there on the scene, it seems incredible that AJ was able to slip out of sight without being noticed by anyone.
This is but another object lesson on the urgency and constancy of the wise old adage, “It takes a village to rear a child.” At best, it takes many heads, many minds, many eyes, many ears, many mouths, many hands, many feet and many hearts, not to mention many prayers, to rear a child. The Godparents are the chosen surrogates of the parents, should they falter. The extended family is next, then the friends and neighbors who in years gone by took care of us almost as blood family.
For little boys, danger tends to be more of a fascination than a threat. Quite heedless of the telltale signs of danger, they wade into doubtful situations. Frankly, I shudder when I think of the unlikely conditions I survived as a boy of three.
Despite the bitter loss of a substantial portion of their future, AJ’s numerous family members and a full house of his spiritual extended family united at the Mass of Resurrection to give thanks for the three years of his joyful, fulfilled and busy life.
Now we were thanking God that Antonio’s name is written in heaven (Luke 10:20) and that he has moved to a brand new house of ecstasy where he awaits all of us.
When the funeral motorcade pulled into Holy Family Cemetery next to Holy Family Church in Lawtell, Louisiana, about nine miles west of Opelousas, I blinked as I stepped out of the limousine. Was this Lawtell or was this New Orleans with the loud, familiar sound of a brass band playing “Just a Closer Walk With Thee” in the unmistakable slow dirge of a jazz funeral? The dirge continued right up to the prayers at the tomb, immediately followed by the upbeat version of the songs. That elegant rendition put an inspiring exclamation point on AJ’s homegoing celebration.
It was not until after the Sunday 11 a.m. Gospel Mass at Holy Ghost Church that the drummer approached me concerning the 7-piece brass band. “I’m Reginald Jackson, the owner of the brass band. We’ve been together for 11 years.”
“So you’re the drummer for both the choir and the brass band!” I observed with a great deal of admiration for the authentic New Orleans brass band sound.
It is easy to understand why AJ’s family hired the jazz band to cap off the celebration of his homegoing. It does take a village to rear a child. Now the village has to rearrange itself by God’s grace into an even more vigilant and loving family.
This article originally published in the September 12, 2016 print edition of The Louisiana Weekly newspaper.
