One of my best Lenten practices of all time came about by waiting until the last minute to do something. (Or maybe more accurately - in spite of waiting until the last minute...) Ash Wednesday had come and gone, and I was still fumbling around for *something* to do for Lent when the idea of attending daily Mass occurred to me - might have been the Holy Spirit speaking. At the time, I had to be at work for 7:05, and my parish (just a few minutes away) had a daily Mass three days a week at 6:30. I was surely not a morning person, but I figured I might be able to swing this without too much revision to my schedule. (You can do just about anything for 40 days...) At the time, my boys were in Cub Scouts, and every February, our pack would participate in a Mass at our parish. A practice would be held a few days before, and our pastor would usually be there to answer questions or lend a hand. Afterwards, I caught him and asked how long daily Mass was - just in case. He avoided the question, and said it depended on whether he had had his coffee yet, but I was left with the impression that Mass would be finished in time for me to get to work.
So I showed up the next morning. And I was hooked. Long before Lent was over. Mass was on Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays, and the days between Monday and Thursday seemed to stretch forever. I would wake up EXCITED that it was a Mass day. Me - who hated mornings?! I didn't understand it, but there was such a draw. When Lent was over, I couldn't stop. I knew I had discovered a pearl of great price, and today I am grateful for the opportunity to attend, and can't imagine my life without this treasure.