There have been many times as a parent where I am in a moment with my kids, and I am very aware that I’ll never forget it. Of course, each of the three birth experiences, their first steps, the first time they slept through the night, the first days of school, the first major injury, the toy obsessions, and so on. Last month, I added a new moment I’ll never forget: my son receiving his First Holy Communion.
Leading up to the day, there was not only spiritual preparation as he grew to understand and fall in love with receiving Jesus, but there was also physical preparation that had to be done as far as getting the house ready for guests, making food, making a cake, wrapping the gifts, and so on. There was lots of anticipation.
I knew it was going to be a special day when we went outside to take pictures before Mass. My eight-year-old, for the first time since posing by a Buzz Lightyear statue at Disneyland 4.5 years ago, smiled willingly. He immediately put his hands together, stood up straight, and gave me the best smile I’ve ever seen. Then we took family pictures and sibling pictures and on and on and every time, he smiled. There was no goofy face, no fake smile, just the most pure smile from him I’ve ever seen (since Buzz, of course). I knew he was excited to receive Jesus, but that was when I knew how special the day was going to be.
When we got to Church, we went to our reserved pew, and he was so calm. He was excited to see classmates, but he was ready to get the show on the road. When it came time to process in and he caught sight of his Godfather (soon-to-be Deacon, but now current Deacon) who would be distributing Jesus’ body to him, he was smiling again (perhaps even a little bigger than pictures an hour before). My son is not one to love people looking at him, so I tried to give him a little pep talk before we processed in, but he just said “I got it. I’m ready!”
During Mass, his normal little boy fidgeting was absent. He was listening to every word and singing every song. But nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for looking down at him after the sign of peace. He was literally bouncing up and down with the slightest of bounces. He was smiling from ear-to-ear. He said to me, “Finally! It’s almost time!”
I didn’t cry then, but I’m crying now as I remember this moment.
He was so excited. In the most pure of ways. I knew before that he knew it was Jesus’ body. But watching him bounce with pure joy, I was overcome with joy (and a little admiration) at how excited he was to receive Jesus.
There have been hours spent in our house over the years teaching about, reading about, praying to, talking to and loving Jesus. Sometimes my prayer is that it all sticks and that our kids never lose their childhood love of God. But it was walking up to receive Jesus myself behind my son who was receiving Him for the first time that I was overcome with peace. My son was beaming as we walked back to our pew. He knelt down and prayed, and then he turned to me and said “okay but it does taste kind of weird…”. And then, we laughed – just a little.
The rest of the day, my son was so joyful. The smile never left his face (the wiffle ball game with his dad and uncles certainly didn’t hurt either). He probably wouldn’t say this himself as he doesn’t think this way, but I think it was the best day of his life.
The night before our son’s First Communion, my husband prayed, “For his First Communion, may it never be his last.” My son’s love of Buzz Lightyear may be long gone, but it will forever be my hope and prayer that his love of receiving Jesus never goes away. I pray that he always has that same love of the Lord even when it’s far from his first time receiving Jesus.