Thursday, November 1, 2012

On the feast of All Saints.

I started the morning at a much quicker pace than usual today.  Typically I hang out in my flannels, present for the kids as they pass through the kitchen.  They make their own breakfast, clean up a fuzz, go about their morning hoopla.  I'm there to give gentle reminders and help with shoe-tying, hair beautifying, and of course morning prayer.  All the while, sipping my coffee and enjoying the whirlwind that surrounds me.
Today though...thing were different.  I woke the four youngest earlier than they prefer.  I helped them dress and get ready for church.  We dropped the older kids off at school, then off to Mass we went.  The fact that their eyes were only half-open, and they'd not had breakfast yet seemed to help them stay fairly settled in the pew.  Even Anne had nothing to say today.   That is until we returned from Communion.   As soon as we were back in the pew and kneeling, she began screaming and pointing back to the Eucharistic Minister.   Making it very clear that she did not get her share.  I hushed her and rocked her and tried to explain "someday, when you're a big girl." 
And I realized in that little instant again, what a privelige it is to be part of this special Communion...a sacred meal that defies the boundaries of time/space.  A sharing in the Bread of Life with all our family here on Earth and in Heaven. 
Breakfast with the Saints, shall we say.

It made me smile that she wanted to be a part of it, even if only for a snack...and in that moment I felt so incredibly blessed to have been called to be part of it.  Grateful that she helped me to remember the beautiful gift of sharing in the breaking of the Bread. 


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