Abiding in the Vine: How Motherhood Revealed the Fruits of the Spirit

Laura Vazquez Santos discovers how the Holy Spirit cultivates love, joy, and patience: fruits that flourish when mothers live faith authentically. 

When I first became a mother, I thought holiness would bloom naturally from love. But instead, I often felt dry and brittle, like a tree planted in rocky soil. My roots were in faith, yet the fruits I longed to see — love, joy, peace, patience — were hard to find amid sleepless nights and toddler meltdowns. 

It wasn’t until I began looking for the Fruits of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23) in my daily family life that I realized God had been cultivating them in me all along. The Catechism calls these fruits “perfections that the Holy Spirit forms in us as the first fruits of eternal glory.” (CCC 1832). In other words, they’re signs that God’s grace is quietly at work even in the chaos of motherhood. 

Here’s how parenting opened my eyes to recognize and grow these fruits, and how I try to pass them on to my children. 

Love 

Love is the first fruit, the root of all the others. It’s not about perfect affection, rather, about choosing the good of another even when we’re weary. 

When postpartum depression and anxiety (especially during COVID lockdowns) left me fragile and feeling isolated, love looked like showing up anyway because everything else felt too hard. Rocking a colicky baby through the night, whispering “I’m sorry” after snapping, or simply sitting with my child when words failed was my way of reminding her and myself that love was still the foundation of our relationship, even when I felt disconnected.  

To help my kids recognize love as action, not just feeling, we end each day by naming “one kind thing” we did for someone else or one that someone did for us. Slowly, they see love as a daily decision to give. 

Joy 

I learned, after many stumbles, that joy isn’t happiness. Happiness shifts with life’s moments; joy remains, anchored in God’s constant presence no matter the storm we’re living. 

During those early lockdown days, it was hard to find joy, but eventually I found it not in perfect order, but in spontaneous moments: my baby smiling back at me in the morning light or sharing her first giggles with her. Joy arrived disguised as gratitude. 

Now, we play a simple game called “Joy Hunt” on drives where each of us names one thing that made us smile that day or something that we see out the window that looks silly to us. It teaches us that joy can be found even in the messy middle of ordinary life. 

Peace 

Before children, I thought peace meant quiet. Parenting taught me that true peace is interior. It is a trust that God holds us even when the house (and our hearts) are noisy. 

When I began praying “Jesus, I trust in You” during moments of chaos, I noticed how it calmed me, and my children noticed too. Together, we practise a simple breath prayer: inhale “Come, Holy Spirit,” exhale “fill our hearts.” This small ritual plants seeds of peace in our home one breath at a time. 

Patience 

Motherhood is a masterclass in patience. From spilled milk to long bedtime stories (and cute but inevitable stalling tactics to avoid bedtime), patience stretches us beyond what we thought was humanly possible. 

I recognized this fruit when I chose to wait through my toddler’s meltdown instead of rushing to fix it, or when I answered the same “why” question for the tenth time. 

To help my kids practice patience, we began a “pause, count, and pray” habit. When things don’t go their way, we stop, take a deep breath, count to ten out loud, and say, “Jesus, help me wait with love.” It reminds us that patience is not passive, rather, it’s prayer in action. 

Kindness and Goodness 

Kindness is compassion in action and goodness is choosing what’s right, even when it’s hard. 

When I saw my children mirror my own impatience, it humbled me. I realized I had to at least try to model kindness even on my hardest days, including modeling that same kindness towards myself on the days where I struggled. And, when I apologize for losing my temper, I’m teaching goodness through honesty, self-accountability, and humility. 

At dinner, we share “kindness stories” (simple moments from our day when someone showed love, fairness, or help). It’s a beautiful way to make the invisible fruits visible. 

Gentleness and Self-Control 

Gentleness doesn’t mean weakness, rather, it is strength under control. And self-control isn’t about suppression; it’s the grace to pause before reacting. 

In the fog of my postpartum experience with both my kids, I learned that gentleness begins with how I speak to my myself, to my husband and to my children. When I lower my voice instead of raising it, the whole atmosphere shifts. 

We now have a “gentle voice” rule at home which we try to follow. When tempers rise, we pause, breathe, and start again. My kids know: gentleness is a superpower that invites peace of mind. 

Faithfulness, Generosity, Modesty, and Chastity 

These lesser-talked-about fruits shape the deeper culture of our homes. 

Faithfulness means keeping our word, even in the small things. When I keep a promise to play after dinner — even when I’m tired — I keep it, and in this way, I’m teaching reliability. 
Generosity grows when we give of our time or attention, not just our things to others. 
Modesty reminds us to speak and act with humility and respect for ourselves and others. 
Chastity is lived as purity of heart, seeing ourselves, and others, as gifts of God to be cherished and respected. 

Each night, we pray: “Holy Spirit, make our hearts generous, faithful, and pure.” It’s a small prayer, but I’ve seen how it roots our home in grace. 

Recognizing the Fruits 

Parenting reveals how these fruits grow not in perfection, but through perseverance. The Holy Spirit’s work is often quiet like a seed stretching beneath the soil. 

I see the fruits when my son shares his toy without being asked, or when I choose to stay patient during yet another sibling squabble. Those moments while small, ordinary, often unseen are the blossoms of holiness. 

How to Cultivate Them as a Family 

• Name the fruit: When you catch a child showing patience or kindness, say it aloud. Naming makes grace concrete and positive reinforcement can go a long way.  

• Reflect daily: Ask, “Which fruit did I live today? Which one do I need more of tomorrow?” 

• Pray intentionally: Choose one fruit to focus on each week — love, joy, peace — and ask the Holy Spirit to grow it in your home. 

• Celebrate progress: Don’t aim for perfection. Every step toward virtue is a victory of grace. 

The Invitation 

Motherhood is holy ground. It is where love is tested, patience stretched, and joy rediscovered in unexpected places. It’s where we learn that bearing fruit is less about striving and more about abiding in the Vine (John 15:5). 

When I look around my kitchen, with crumbs on the floor and toys under the table, I can now see more than mess. I see a living orchard. A place where, by God’s mercy, love, joy, peace, and all the rest are slowly growing (imperfectly, quietly, and beautifully). 

The Holy Spirit is already at work in you, dear mother. The fruits are there, even when you can’t yet see them. Keep tending the soil, stay rooted in prayer, and trust the One who makes all things grow. 

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Copyright 2026 Laura Vazquez Santos
Images: Canva