Connections

My boy received First Communion over the weekend. I was so happy for him. He had felt left out all this time and now is more part of going to mass.

Some things amazed me while watching this simple act. First was the complete trust he had. He walked up to the priest, bowed; watch the movement of the priest’s hand from the ciborium to his small hand. Carefully picking up the Host, he then placed it in his mouth and smiled. His mother and I, of course, get to see this from a unique vantage point within the nave.

Second was the simple happiness he had from being able to participate. He told us how much he didn’t feel like he was a part of what was going on. I guess he was saying he didn’t belong as much as we tried to convince him he did.

It reminded me of the moment when the little “toad” was born. It was a warm June morning and mom was scheduled for a C-section. We dutifully arrive at one of the local hospitals at the appointed hour and go through the laborious act of admitting. About two hours later here he comes, screaming and kicking, not liking his new environment at all. (A lot like his older sister, I might add.) Now seven years later (a lifetime of trouble that was over in a couple of hours) we witness this rite of passage.

Maybe in my advancing years I am becoming a bit more sentimental. It was something the little guy wanted to do. He had wanted to do this for more than a year and, finally, to get to this goal was something that made him very happy. I only hope he continues setting goals and working to achieve them.