The funeral home was packed with mourners and the funeral service was well underway.  There were a lot of words, a lot of tears, just enough scripture.  But I wondered how long it would be before the 5 year-old sitting in the second row became restless and fidgety. Just then, as it turned out, the previously patient boy hit his limit.  He began to squirm, pull at his small suit coat as if it were restricting the necessary movement for play.

His mother tapped his knee.  He began to whine.  She tapped it again with two fingers showing.  She tapped it one-two-three with a fist.  He grinned.  She tapped three times with her palm flat. He got it – the Rock, Paper, Scissors game!  In complete silence, he played with his mom, gently tapping one two three rock — or one two three scissors — or one two three paper.  And each time his mother “won” she gently embraced his hand with hers.  And when she lost, he gently caressed her hand with his.  The child’s father peeked over and smiled.  Only he and I could see what was happening.

The mother succeeded in quieting her child with this game.  She could have accomplished the same result had she handed him a screen – a smart phone or tablet, so that he would stay quiet during a long church service.  Surely, she considered the only fool-proof solution of one who knows a child must be quiet, leaving him home with a neighbor or babysitter.  But it seemed to me that she made the best choice.  She created this human connection of a mother’s hand playing, touching, enfolding her child’s hand, all while she remembered the life and honored the death of her own father.