Infant Jesus of Prague

As a wee tyke, my mother dedicated me to the Infant Jesus of Prague. Growing up in Bombay, beside my grandparents bed there hung a certificate proclaiming this. As a child, I saw it everyday and for many years I wondered where this Pra-goo was--assuming it was a city in some distant part of the world. Well, when I was in Prague I had the privilege of visiting the Church of our Lady Victorious which is dedicated to the Bambino Jesus--thanks to the Italians who brough the Infant Jesus to Prague. In the museum attached to the narthex of this church there are ornate, christening gowns donated to the Infant from across the globe--China, Korea, Italy!

I went down on my knees and prayed to the baby Jesus. I prayed with a fervor I had lost when the glow of innocence escaped me paving the way to the jaded reality of who I've become. I closed my eyes, clasped my hands together, and I begged the little baby to bless my family. I asked for my mother to find happiness in this marriage. I asked for me to find peace within myself. I gave thanks for having friends who cared and who stood by me--despite the truth that I can be unbearable. I wished...with all my heart and what little soul I admit to having in me, I wished for the one dream I have to come true. And in that moment I believed it would. I knew He heard me and my faith was renewed. I didn't find Jesus in Prague, but he certainly reclaimed me.