The mother left the carriage for a minute,

and I went over to meet the Holy Trinity living in the baby’s pure soul.

It was asleep, its arms carelessly laid on the embroidered sheet.

Its closed eyes looked inward and its chest gently rose and fell

As if to murmur: This dwelling is inhabited.

Lord, you are there.

I adore you in this little one who has not yet disfigured you.

Help me to become like this child once more,

To recapture your likeness

and your life now so deeply buried

in my heart.

– Michel Quoist (1918-1997)

– You might combine this prayer with Psalm 131