Like a Mango, baby

Way back when, in the months before my husband and I got married, we went through Pre Cana. It was required by the Church to make sure we were both prepared for the sacrament of marriage. I don’t remember lots about the process, mostly that we found it a bit odd to be receiving relationship advice from a priest. There was a curriculum, I think, and some surveys/questionnaires to assess our compatibility, maturity, etc. I’m pretty sure we talked about welcoming children into our lives, and the sanctity of commitment. What the vows we were going to take really meant. That falling in love was only the beginning, the easy part. That the real challenge lay down the road, with what came next.  

That’s when things got interesting.

In doling out his advice, I remember the priest–not his name or even his face, whether he was old or young–leaning closer and lowering his voice as he looked at my then fiance. They were the signals that he was about to say something very important. “I’m going to tell you the secret,” he confirmed my suspicions by saying. “I’m going to tell you the secret to having a happy marriage, being a good husband, and keeping the love alive in your wife’s heart.”

Yeah, he totally had my attention.

“This,” he says,  never breaking eye contact as he lowers his arm to a small brown bag beside him and pulls out…

Yes. That’s right. Our pre cana priest pulled out a mango.

Okay.

But he had us, you know? He totally had our attention. He’d just promised the secret to a happy marriage…and pulled out a mango. “Do you know why?” he asks.

Um…no. 1+1 was not equaling 2, at least not in our book.

We shook our heads, which I’m pretty sure he was expecting, because he leaned back and smiled, lapsing into more of a kindly uncle voice, than a chaste priest. “What do you know about mangoes?”

Well, you know, the first thing that comes to MY mind is that they’re juicy. BUT that hardly seemed appropriate. So I opted for that demure female thing and held quiet, curious what my husband-to-be my say.

“Um…they taste good?”

OMG. Yeah. Right. That was SUCH a better (more tasteful, dare I say?) thing to say.

Except, clearly, Counselor Priest was expecting such an answer. His smile grew. “Yes,” he says. “But tell me how. Tell me how a mango tastes.”

That was easy.  “Sweet.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “Sweet and juicy.”

Okay, truth be told, that made me squirm. Maybe it’s just the fact that I was twenty-four and the quick trip to the gutter was instantaneous…and, well, that this was a priest, not the gang at the office.

Now the priest’s expression transforms from jolly uncle to sage elder. “But what happens when...” He lifts the mango and… “you drop it?” And he did.

I think we both gasped. There was that beautiful piece of fruit slamming down against the tile or linoleum or whatever it was.

Before we could answer, he picked it back up.  ”For all its sweetness,” he says, “it is also easily bruised.”

Except it was a lot more than a bruise. It was smashed, split open, and oozing.

“And that is where the secret comes in,” he went on. “What you must always remember. This woman who will one day soon be your wife…she is like this mango, so sweet and juicy you want to reach for her as often as you can, but if you hold on too tight or not tightly enough, she is also easily bruised. Without even trying, without even wanting to, you can hurt her…break her. “

Being young and a bit silly, I remember sitting there not quite able to get past the priest/juicy mango thing. But all these years (21!) later, that’s the one part of Pre Cana that I remember, so clearly the priest knew what he was doing. And his message was spot-on, too. Put the whole mango analogy thing aside, and what he was saying was this: Handle with care. And truly, if you want to get down to one piece of advice to fuel a marriage–or any relationships–it’s that. Handle with care. Be gentle with each other. Remember to treat those that you love, your spouse, your children, your friends, like you LIKE them. That you’re on the same team. That you want the best for them.  Do that, and not only do you not damage them, but all the other stuff kinda falls magically into place.

Like a mango, baby