By Mitch Day ’12

When I introduce my mother, I like telling people that she is a saint, but Mary Day shares more than just a name with Mary, our Lady.

Mom takes her sacred role as parent seriously. Looking to the example of our Blessed Mother, she frequently sought divine instruction on how to best approach this ever-changing vocation. Early in her experience of motherhood, she found the image of a cathedral builder helpful.

She discovered a book that linked mothers and architecture—her favorite passage was about a rich man who came to visit a cathedral while it was still under construction. The builder was meticulously at work, carving an ornate tiny bird on the inside of a beam. The rich man was puzzled and asked the worker, “Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.”

The workman replied with a line that would soon become her sustaining mantra, “Because God sees it.”

The daily, humble craftsmanship it takes to build a cathedral parallels the hidden years Jesus shared with Mary before his public ministry began. Before the water was turned to wine, before the feeding of the 5,000, and before anyone walked on the Sea of Galilee, Jesus’ faith, hope, and love were built day by day within the confines and obscurity of the life he shared with Mary. It was in their home where Jesus’ future ministry received its slow and proper foundation.

My mom invested in my growth with similar selflessness and painstaking perseverance. In fact, I learned the bulk of my faith by her mere presence—her life as a mother was her prayer and witness to God.

During adolescence, I was unaware of how much she attempted to reflect, however imperfectly, the example of our Blessed Mother. From the Annunciation to the Passion, Mary’s life gave my mom a rough template of how to approach the inevitable seasons of uncertainty and loss. When divorce revealed its ugly face to her when she was 39, and no angel came to visit in the months of sleepless nights to follow, she did her best to accept, without condition, the evolving gift of motherhood and womanhood that this new life could offer.

In imitation of Mary, as a late-in-life single mother she devoted herself entirely to two relationships: her God and her children. From the numerous Scriptures taped to our bathroom mirrors, to encouraging lunch box notes, to the countless weekend nights she stayed at home to attend to our needs, Mary Day saw to it that my sisters and I would have the footing, presence, and direction to grow into the men and women God wished us to be.

And so like Jesus, it was by my mother’s faith that I came to know of God’s love for me. By her graceful suffering, I gained an appreciation for how a cathedral is built, even when it is raining. And like our Blessed Mother, the legacy she leaves to the world is in her attention to details, in her patient work carving those humble little birds when it seemed few were watching.

Happy Mother’s Day and birthday, Mom. You are with me each day.