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| Joseph and Catherine Nicolette feeding a rescued bird |
Of my children, I believe Joseph has the kindest heart. He reminds me of the Sermon on the Mount: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God."
When some of us are quarrelling, Joe intervenes:
"Love ditch other", he admonishes, "God says you must."
Most of his knowledge of catechism was taught him by the Sisters of St Elmo's where he made his first Communion before he returned to us.
Shortly afterwards, coming from Mass, he approached our parish priest who was standing talking to some parishioners.
"Father!" he called out joyfully, "thank you for giving me the Body of Christ!"
The people laughed delightedly; that is the effect Joe has on most of us.
Animal-lovers
The nuns taught him to be gentle towards animals.
"Never be cruel to God's creatures", he informs us. "We should look after them nicely."
He is living at the right place. Apart from me, everyone in this family possesses an animal-loving streak that can only remind one of St Francis.
I always smile when I recall walking down the street beside my eldest son.
Those fierce dogs which usually scare the daylights out of me became as meek as lambs.
He knew their names and histories, and they came to say hullo to him, wagging their tails.
"Don't bark at that lady", he told one diehard who was prepared to accept him but not his hangers-on. "That's my mother. I want you to be nice to her." I felt ten feet tall that day.
Joseph also likes dogs, but he prefers chickens. Years ago his father went to the pet shop to buy a dozen chicks and ducks.
The first inkling I had of this was when he returned from the shop and I heard my husband telling the children: "You're not to say a thing to the ou girl. Leave her to me, I can handle her ... Oh hello, Ma, I didn't see you there."
"Cut the blarney", I replied, "What have you been up to?"
When he produced the livestock, I pretended to burst into tears - and my dismay was only partly feigned.
Joseph haunted me until bedtime.
"Do you love the chicks and the ducks?" he demanded. "Say you do. You've got to love God's creatures."
"I don't", I said bitterly, "Give them away."
My husband told me later that Joseph came up to him and said: "I'm going to wait until Mommy has said her prayers. Then I'll ask her if she loves God's creatures, and she'll say yes."
However, it took him a week of pleading before I became too numb to dissent.
I got used to the ducks, and only wished my children were as united as they were.
They kept together all the time. I dreaded thinking what I was going to do with them when they grew big.
As it was, the garage smelled like a pet shop and my few remaining dishes served as swimming pools, food receptacles and other essentials.
I never knew ducks and chicks used so much crockery.
Can talk
Years ago Joe was angry and gossiping about Peter, a neighbour's child.
I had him there and told him to stop skindering about God's creatures.
"He's not God's creature - he can talk", he objected.
"We're all God's creatures", I informed him, and dashed out - fearful of becoming involved in a theological discussion.
Next day I was talking to a neighbour at the fence when Joe came up to us with Peter in tow. "Mommy and Tannie, say hullo to Peter - God's creature", he said.
My son is mentally disabled.
To me he is like the verse in the Bible:
"Consider the lilies of the field, and how they grow... I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not as one of these."
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