For many families the traditions of the Catholic Church become personal family traditions. The sacraments bring us together to celebrate the milestones of our lives that are also milestones of our lives as Catholics.

We bring our children to Church in order to introduce them and initiate them into the life of the Christian community, just as our parents did before us. Often, families view the tradition of gathering for a baptism, a first Communion or a confirmation as important as gathering for a major holiday. The events call for a certain type of dress, gifts and festive meals. It is a big responsibility for parents and sometimes in the midst of preparing it is easy to get lost in the details.

This past weekend my family traveled across the desert to Arizona for the baptism of the newest member, our two-month-old granddaughter. I arrived early to help with the cooking and baking. My daughter and I did all the things many generations of mothers and daughters have done as they prepare for these special occasions.

At one point, in the throes of assembling enchiladas and pasta salad, I flashed back to the baptisms of my children. For a few minutes I daydreamed about the houses we lived in at the time, the godparents, the different churches where the ceremonies took place and the people who were always there: the grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles and the friends who offered tables and chairs, coffee pots, extra silverware and anything else that was needed to make the celebration a success.

This baptism was much the same. My daughter's friends helped, there was an abundance of food and great-grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles were present alongside the younger family members. This time however, it seemed that the significance of everything was much clearer. Maybe it is the wisdom that age brings or perhaps it is part of God's plan that with grandchildren there is a second chance to understand better what is taking place in all aspects of life, particularly the spiritual.

There were a few things that made this baptism unique. The christening gown was created by the baby's great uncles who make liturgical vestments. They wove the fabric and embroidered the baby's baptism date on the matching slip.

The night before the baptism the baby's mom and godmother made the Communion bread for the weekend's liturgies. My daughter signed up for this ministry at her parish months ago never imagining she would be baking the bread that would be used at the liturgy where her daughter would be baptized. The baking of the bread shifted the focus from the details of the party to the significance of the event of the baptism.

The day of the baptism required the usual running around, with camera batteries to be charged and clothes to be pressed. As we drove to church my daughter remarked on how we were all dressed up, especially the baby. She wondered aloud if it was worth it; we would only be there for about an hour, after all.

Yes, we decided, it was worth it. We were following a tradition started many generations ago. It didn't matter if we appeared, to some, overdressed for a Saturday afternoon liturgy; what mattered was being properly dressed for this family occasion.

At the beginning of Mass the priest introduced himself as the great-great uncle of the baby to be baptized which brought a spontaneous round of applause. The choir sang a prayer for the baby using her name and continued their song praying for her parents. It was a simple, well prepared and meaningful liturgy. The baby, looking angelic in her gown, seemed to enjoy it all, even the water poured over her head.

We appreciated the history of having our uncle baptize all the children and now the grandchildren. We were grateful that so many "greats" were present --- uncles, aunts and grandparents. We were grateful to the parish for being so welcoming to a crowd from Los Angeles, and to our daughter and son-in-law's friends for recognizing the significance of the occasion and supporting them.

There was one mishap: My father-in-law, who is in fragile health but made the trip with gusto, tripped in the parking lot and fell. This meant 911, ambulances, a trip to the hospital and worry among the family. What were we to do? As soon as it was determined he would be all right the celebration resumed, albeit more restrained.

There were many lessons to be learned from the weekend: the importance of religious and family traditions, good friends, and living each moment as fully as possible. And, most importantly, recognizing the goodness of God despite the sometimes messy side of life.

Anne Hansen is a parent education consultant and a parishioner at Blessed Junípero Serra Church, Camarillo. Her e-mail address is familymail@aol.com.