Lent 2026: First Sunday of Lent

Today in the classroom, where I teach fourth and fifth graders about English, reading, spelling and the Catholic faith, I laid my hand on top of a cactus. You read that right – I laid my hand right on top of a real, needle-covered cactus. And not only did I lay my hand on top of it, I forcibly grabbed ahold of it. Now, that was, if you couldn’t tell, not my intention. The rolling chair behind the big desk that I use was rolled away from the desk. So, like a faithful teacher who wants to practice what she preaches, I was trying to put the chair back in place as I ask all of the students to do whenever they are about to walk away from their desks. I did not, at that moment, recall that the day before, I had reorganized the decorations I kept behind the desk on the window sill. Instead of a spiny, “under-the-sea-like-cactus” (the theme of the classroom is “Underwater”/To the Depths with Christ!”) being in the corner of the sill, it was now directly behind the rolling chair. I think you can understand that, as a person who is used to looking intently at little ones with great frequency to see what they are up to, I did not have my eyes on the “prize”, my target. So, instead of latching onto the top of the thick, padded back of the rolling chair, I quickly wrapped all five fingers and my palm around the top of the spiky cactus and squeezed firmly, exclaiming, “Ouch!” louder than I ever have in a classroom, startling probably most of my students, if not all of them.

A caring little girl quickly asked, “Are you okay, Sister?” I didn’t know how to respond at first – I was so surprised! But, after a moment, I sheepishly replied, “Yes, I am okay. I just accidentally grabbed the cactus instead of the back of this chair. See what I did?” Then I reenacted it for them, and several of them shuddered and uttered, “Ooooo”, and others began praying for my hand. I gingerly pulled a small needle out from my pinky and used the classroom phone to call an administrator to come in so I could wash and bandage a finger. I told her through the intercom, “Would you be able to step in for a minute? I accidentally grabbed a cactus and need to take care of my hand. Beware of the cactus – it’s sharp!” She laughed and promised to follow my directions.

You think that was enough for God to get my attention? After the incident occurred, I felt that it would become the subject of my time of praying with the First Sunday of Lent’s Scripture readings. Yes, believe it or not, the Lord seemed to give me that impression right away. In the afternoon, though, I was leading my children back to class from another location and two small first graders were in front of me. I turned my head to look back at the line – which could’ve used some shaping up, certainly – and smacked right into one of the little girls. She went flying a good three feet ahead and thankfully landed fine and began to laugh really hard. I was, again, so surprised by this and my first reaction was to sputter, “Why did you stop walking?!” as if it were her fault I ran into her. I quickly apologized, though, as I should have had my head forward or stopped my whole body to turn around. It was quite a funny experience, in hindsight. So was grabbing the cactus.

I digress. I would like to just share a few thoughts about the First Reading for today. It is about how God created man and how a serpent tempted man to sin. The serpent, we can see, went through man’s helpmate to not help man. I will relay some brief thoughts about how what I learned today connects with and can be interpreted through this reading:

1. My eyes, at least twice today, were not directed where it would’ve been helpful to direct them. Why? Because I was not actually fully engaged with God in the present. I was thinking about “What if my children are doing this?”, or, “What if they’re not doing that?” I was so focused on what I thought they may or may not be doing – all hypotheticals, not actuality – that I missed seeing a cactus and a small child. Just completely missed them. One, I was injured by. The other, I could have injured (and thankfully didn’t)! Sometimes, we think our eyes are directed properly, but we’re actually missing what God wants us to see, which could be right in front of us. Eve directed her eyes to what appeared to be good, but it was not the greatest good in her environment. In fact, it was the one thing God had said would be bad for her. Jesus, direct my eyes to what is actually good, not what is merely hypothetical, made up, in my mind. Amen.

2. I took the fruit! I mean, I grabbed a cactus – I guess it’s not technically a fruit – but, wow, I really grabbed that plant! With great gusto! What if I were to grab onto Jesus’ hand like that? Cling to Him with my whole being like that? How different would I live from moment to moment if I adhered to Him the way my fingers did those needles? Well, this symbol only goes so far, but I think you get my point (pun intended). Being intimately close with Jesus is the greatest gift on this side of heaven. And, being close also might mean we feel a bit of the weight of the cross He bore for us and the sting of the thorns He wore for us. But, it’s worth it.

3. Because I thought I was in the right, that I was doing a good thing, I was ready to blame someone or something else for my actions! The cactus I wanted to accuse of being in the wrong place. Who had put that cactus there? I had put that cactus there! As I nursed my hand and didn’t know how to respond to my children yet, I realized that I had moved the cactus and I felt a little embarrassed. Wow. It had been my idea to put the cactus right behind where I would sit. I couldn’t blame anyone else. I can’t blame a cactus for being pokey – that’s part of its cactus-ness. But, I also could accept what happened and not blame myself for “unintelligently” moving the cactus there. Nah. I didn’t hurt myself intentionally. I offered the little suffering for my children and moved the cactus to the other corner of the sill. With the small child experience, I thought it was right of me to check on the line of children behind me. It was not ideal to do that while walking, though. Once I accepted my poor choice that had a somewhat good intention, I realized that in both instances, a feeling of pride had preceded the fall. Wow. There are no coincidences in Christ. The same had happened with Adam and Eve. Jesus, help me to grow in authentic humility so that I may learn from every situation in life and accept what is entrusted to me! Amen.