Going to Ch*urch

When Kayli and I go to church, it’s always an adventure. We usually try to sit close to the front so she can see what’s going on. I tell her to whisper, if she needs to tell me something, and she can demonstrate this skill on command. However, as we all know, when a young child is suddenly “struck” by something he or she has just heard, or a revelation pops into their head, they have no control over the volume used to express their immediate thoughts. Such was the case when the homily today was provided through a slideshow/video narrated by the Archbishop.

The church went dark, a screen popped down from the ceiling, and a man’s voice began. Kayli suddenly sat up straight, began looking around, eyes darting back and forth like they do when you’re thinking hard, trying to figure out a complex problem. Then, she glanced once, then twice, towards the ceiling, turned to me, and cupping her hand around the side of her mouth, as if she were trying to be discreet, loudly inquired “Uh, Mom, is that man’s voice talking to us from heaven???” “Is it God talking from heaven?” Quietly I assure her that it is not voices from heaven we are hearing, but she continues to look above the screen as if she's found evidence to the contrary.

So, now the slideshow is over and the priest reiterates the key points he wants us to think about, such as how we all need to just “light that fire in our hearts!”

“What?” Kayli perks up again. “What, Mom??? Did he say Light our Hearts on FIRE???” I’m nodding and “shushing” her as she shakes her head in disbelief, ignoring my attempts to lower her volume, as she bellows “Woww, that’s Gotta hurt!” I spot the lady next to us stifling a laugh.
Then, finally, it is communion time, so I head up toward the front, with Kayli walking directly in front of me.


I’m thinking about how glad I am that we’ve moved past the stage where Kayli thought I was getting a potato chip and she was mad that she didn’t get one. So, I step forward and receive the host, while Kayli receives a blessing. Then, I turn to go back to my seat when I see Kayli firmly planted in front of the Eucharistic Minister that is holding the wine chalice. As I reach out to take her by the hand and begin to lead her back to our seats, she looks around, acting confused and loudly proclaims “But, Mom, you forgot to get your drink.” “Why don’t you want to get a drink?” “You’re supposed to get a drink, see?” as she points to the other people taking wine. I attempt to explain some acceptable possibilities for not always choosing to “take a drink” at communion, and that just got me that “look”; You know the one, the one that says “I have no idea what you are talking about but I still think you Just Forgot, and I’ll be sure to remind you next time we come to church…”Oh, boy, this kid doesn’t miss a thing.