Birthday blessings

The children and I were invited out to a birthday party tonight, hosted by my refugee friends. 

Although it was only the actual birthday of one child in the family, they were holding the celebration in honour of all four childen.  Not having been given much hint about what the party would entail, I was a bit surprised when it turned out to be a church service in their sitting room.  Less surprised that it was all in Karen (one of Burma's many ethnic languages).

Now, having done a six month stint in a convent in Burma (as I've mentioned before) I have quite a high threshold for religious services in languages I don't understand.  At the convent I always enjoyed the hymns - belted out in four-part harmony - and the crowd gathered in the small apartment tonight sang with similar gusto.  But the sermon was long, and the prayer was long and once it dawned on me that we were probably set for an hour-long session I did wonder how my own children (not much accustomed to church in any language) were going to hold out.

They did me proud - sat still, no complaining.  Although they have no religious leanings themselves, they appreciated that for the people gathered in the room this was a special occasion - and they rose to it.  After the final Amen, they fully deserved to tuck into birthday cake with the rest of the guests.