Father P. attended Mount Saint Mary's Seminary in Emmitsburg, Md. As MSM College (now University) is my Alma Mater, I was already a fan. After the sermon he gave for the First Communion masses, I was even more impressed.
He spoke about a sign on the sacristy wall of the St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Basilica. It says, "Priest of God, celebrate this Mass as if it were your first Mass, your last Mass, your only Mass." He modified it to speak of receiving Holy Communion. He told the kids they should "Receive every Holy Communion as if it is your First Holy Communion, your Last Holy Communion, your Only Holy Communion." I thought it was such a poignant idea. Many times, the Eucharist becomes such a habit, we just take it for granted and don't use the reverence we should.
Fast forward seven years. Sawyer was in 2nd grade for the second year in a row. Having a Special Needs child can be overwhelming at times. Although Sawyer is very high functioning, his autism demands additional needs; for example, IEP meetings, behavior therapy in the home, feeding clinic appointments, and the day to day struggle of trying not to meltdown when it is inappropriate. Take sports for instance. Sawyer knows that boys his age are not supposed to cry when they strike out, but the frustration of not performing is overwhelming and he loses it. He knows that his peers don't have a problem with loud and rowdy kids in the school cafeteria, but the over stimulation of many noises (in this case, voices) coming from several directions causes him to lose his ability to do anything besides curl up in a ball and hold his hands over his ears.
Last year, Sawyer and I attended the first two CCD classes with the Communion group. There were about 20 kids and one teacher. As I have to accompany Sawyer to most activities, it was mistakenly thought that I would be the aide as I would be there anyway. Uhhhh, it doesn't work that way. When Sawyer is in full meltdown mode, I can do nothing but deal with Sawyer. And even when there is not nuclear combustion going on, I really need to focus on him. Needless to say, I pulled him and we "homeschooled" CCD. Homeschooling CCD meant walking the other kids to the church for classes and finding an empty classroom to watch a Bible Video. I found a series which had a quiz at the end, so I could trick myself into believing he was actually learning something.
When we moved East and Sawyer was in 2nd grade again, I was assured there were at least three 2nd grade CCD classes. I was thankful for the small class size and felt much more confident about his "Sacramental Year." When we arrived for the first class, I was told the three teachers had decided to join forces and teach one big class. You can imagine my delight at such a prospect. But, I was assured that there were three teachers and at least three aides with the 30-40 kids in the class. More importantly, no one was expecting me to do anything, but sit with Sawyer. That, I was relatively sure I could do.
We attended the majority of classes and on occasion, Sawyer actually participated. When it was time to recite his prayers to ensure he knew them, we played fill in the blank. "Our _____, who ___ in _______," You get the idea. I had spoken with the Priest, actually two of them at our new Parish and was assured it would be okay. I wasn't sure he'd be able to receive his Sacraments at all, but one priest remarked that sometimes Special Needs kids are almost more deserving of Grace from The Lord. I was feeling pretty good.
And then it was time for Confession. Kids typically make their First Confession several weeks before their First Communion. We went to classes and we practiced. We made a cheat sheet with the class and practiced. We said our prayers and we practiced. The big day came....and went. He did not want to go when his class was going. As I had already experienced taking a teary eyed and terrified child (Josie) to her First Confession while all the parents and the entire 2nd grade class watched, I was not anxious to do it again. I had already spoken with the Priest about doing it quietly in his office some day. And that's exactly what we did. Sawyer was not overly responsive and didn't say hardly anything, but Father W. took a very smart approach and asked Sawyer a series of "yes" or "no" questions so Sauce could nod or shake his head to own up to any of his sins. If there were any off the beaten track sins, they were grouped in with the others. I'm certain that God had it covered. For the record: I was to keep my eyes closed as Sawyer was sitting on my lap. I may or may not have peeked just a bit.
As we were leaving, I asked the Priest if he would tell the Religious Ed Director that Sawyer had indeed made his First Confession as he would not be able to take Communion until the former was done. He smiled and said, "No." I was like, "Whatdya mean 'no?' You're kidding right?" He shook his head. "A Priest cannot tell anyone who has gone to confession." I'm thinking, Seriously? I coulda lied and no one would have ever.....shoot, never-mind.
We got over the precursor hurdle and suddenly it was the week of Josie's Confirmation and Sawyer's First Communion, because the Catholic Church is all about cramming in these two Sacraments before Matrimony season starts. Poor Josie got next to no fanfare for her Thursday night event. Not only was she one of just a couple 9th graders getting Confirmed (because in Pennsylvania they Confirm in 8th grade and in Kansas they Confirm in 9th), but Sawyer's possible Communion was sucking up all my energy and anxiety.
The Big Day arrived. May 9th, 2015. I remember thinking as I woke up, this could really go either way. In fact, I could think of about 107 scenarios of the day playing out with only a handful of them not being horrific. Sawyer was certainly not willing to try on any clothes the weeks or even the night before. I was measuring pants against the jeans he wore to school that week and shirts against the long sleeve Minecraft T-shirts that he donned on a daily basis. By the grace of God, I was able to get him dressed and everything fit relatively well. He did remind me, "I hate shirts with buttons." and "I will NOT wear a tie!" Eventually, we left the house with him in khakis, a button-down shirt, clip-on tie, navy blazer, dark socks and loafers. I don't even attempt this much formality at a family wedding. He was not happy, but surprisingly calm.
It was set up so the First Communicants would process in, making a full lap around the pews so parents and relatives could snap pictures at every possible camera angle before the kids made their way down the main aisle once again and sat in the first several pews of the church. It took about 6.2 seconds for Sawyer to determine at rehearsal that he was having none of this parading around business. Not. Doing. It. That was more than fine with me. As far as I was concerned that meant less could go wrong. The Religious Education Director had a few pews set aside for kids that would do better sitting with their families. We were in one of those pews. However, even though Sawyer wasn't processing in, we still had to be there quite early. Waiting, as you can imagine, especially for something that he is nervous about, is not Sawyer's forte. Add in my four other kids whose seating arrangements required for maximum good behavior could be an SAT question (The Carlton's are going to sit together in church. B Cha must sit on an end. Lyra cannot sit next to B Cha or Tali. Josie must sit on an end...) add in other family members and dynamics and we were a puddle of gas praying no one close by needed a smoke!
FINALLY, church began and the kids started their march down the aisle. You could definitely pick out the future attention seeking brides vs the ones that would rather arrive at the alter in the middle of a ring of bridesmaids. There were a handful of extremely prayerful young men...and the other 37 were a caricature of 8 year old boys whose Mothers had just spit on a tissue attempting to clean the chocolate pop tart off their face.
Mass was progressing along with only peppered interruptions from Sawyer, who inquired regularly on any updates re: Eastern Standard Time, while in turn providing notifications re: hunger, starvation, and impending dehydration. He had lost the sports coat at some point, but I didn't even notice until he looked at me with a rage that would've made Linda Blair shake and said, "I. Said. No. Ties." It
required ever fiber of my being to not look back at him like a crazy woman and respond, "And. I. Said. No. Wire. Hangers." True story.
The moment of truth arrived. All the "neuro-typical" kids went to the alter and received the Body of Christ. It was our turn. I walked up the aisle on Sawyer's right side, and everything slurred together. We made it to the alter, the wonderful priest smiled at me, his eyes twinkling, I'm sure the suspense was killing him too. I put my hands out and Sawyer mimicked me. Father W. said, "The Body of Christ." And I THINK Sawyer responded "Amen," but to be honest he could have said, "And also with you," and I wouldn't have noticed. He took the host and placed it in his mouth! Did you get that? HE TOOK THE HOST AND PLACED IT IN HIS MOUTH! If you are not Catholic, it is important to understand that when we, as Catholics, receive communion, we believe it to be the actual Body of Christ. This is a huge deal and him going through with it, was enough for me to hear a chorus of angels singing the Easter Alleluia as I walked back to the pew. Tears, real tears were streaming down my cheeks. A Momma could not have ever been prouder.
We knelt after communion and I praised God and thanked Jesus for getting both of us through this. I was interrupted from my worship when Sawyer grabbed my arm in a strangle hold. I looked at him, "What?" He had a very strange look on his face and he started to open his mouth several times. He pointed at his mouth. Like a properly trained mother, I obeyed and cupped my hand under his chin. What happened next was beyond any of those 107 scenarios I had feared. He spit the well chewed wafer into my hand! I was stunned and in shock for a good 19 seconds, before I pulled my hand back to examine the contents.
Praying that he had somehow swallowed the host before ingesting and depositing a chewed up peanut butter cracker in my palm, I gazed down. I will spare you the gory details, but what I was holding was no mystery. I said, "Sawyer! Whaaaa?" He looked at me blankly and said, "I have to go to the bathroom." The noise that came from me must have been odd. Josie looked over Sawyer's head and gave me a questioning look. I turned my wrist slightly so she could see what I was holding while not spilling any of the puddle. Her face contorted as she mentally put the pieces together of what could possibly be in my hand. I now know exactly what the person who came up with the light bulb going off scenario was talking about. I believe I saw a spark fire out of her ear. She turned to Lyra and the whispers went westward down the pew. As each child heard the news they looked at me with a "Say it ain't so Momma!" glance that I could only return with a small lift of my right hand. Keep in mind that the families and friends of all the Communicants were still coming up the aisle, meaning, I could not leave my seat. As friends tapped me on the shoulder to wave or whisper "Hi" as they walked by, I plastered on a smile worthy of wedding photos. Also, I kept my right hand out of view.
Hours (or possibly just a few minutes) later, as the last attendee passed, I grabbed Sawyer and said, "Let's go." We walked up the aisle to the narthex and the bathrooms. One of the CCD teachers was at the doorway and was so excited, "He did it!" I reluctantly showed her my hand and I think she threw up in her mouth a little before saying, "Well, Momma, it's time to take one for the team." I whimpered, "I have to don't I?" Her nod was clear. I nudged Sawyer into the Men's room and I went into the Ladies. Again, if you are not Catholic, you must understand desecration of the host is a mortal sin. It is akin to desecrating the body of Jesus. The only option I had was ingesting the host myself. I did. I shall spare us both the details of that experience.
Please know, that this was a very pivotal moment for me as a Catholic. Seriously. I briefly debated the alternatives before recognizing that I had no doubt what I needed to do. It was not enjoyable. Perhaps saying that is a sin, I hope not. But I am happy with the decision I made. There was no time to second guess myself as I now needed to get Sawyer back down to our pew before mass ended. I'm not sure why that was so important at the moment, but it was.
I cracked the door of the Men's room and said, "Sauce?" A booming voice (which did NOT belong to my eight year old son) came back, "Someone's in here!" I enlisted the help of a teenage boy we knew. I begged him to go in and see what was up. He came out smiling and said, "He couldn't undo his belt." Are you kidding me? I had gone through an entire examination of my conscience and discernment of my faith and he hadn't gone to the bathroom yet?!? Unbelievable. I waited, suddenly having an inkling of what purgatory must feel like, until he came out, shirt untucked belt unbuckled, pants 1/2 way zipped. I put him back together a la Clark Kent into Superman and rushed him down the aisle. As we sat down the Priest and Clergy stood to process out. Phew.
I vaguely remember walking to the parish activity center and the beginnings of a reception. Sawyer wanted nothing to do with the crowd and honestly, neither did I. I did chug a glass of punch though.
Five weeks have passed since that fateful Saturday. Each week I have Sawyer walk down the aisle next to me. Each week we arrive at the Priest and he gives Sawyer a "What'll it be?" look. And each week so far, Sawyer has given the slightest shake of his head. The Priest tells me not to worry. I should continue to bring him up each week and someday he will Receive. It may be the 27th time, it may be the 87th, it may even be the 147th, but it is important to give him the chance.
I don't know how long it will take. Only God knows that. And perhaps Sawyer. In the meantime, I tell myself it is okay because Sawyer did Receive his First Holy Communion as if it was his First Holy Communion, His Last Holy Communion, His Only Holy Communion.
Editors note: Today, December 5, 2015 marks the 30th week since Sawyer's First Holy Communion. He has yet to take the host again.
Hours (or possibly just a few minutes) later, as the last attendee passed, I grabbed Sawyer and said, "Let's go." We walked up the aisle to the narthex and the bathrooms. One of the CCD teachers was at the doorway and was so excited, "He did it!" I reluctantly showed her my hand and I think she threw up in her mouth a little before saying, "Well, Momma, it's time to take one for the team." I whimpered, "I have to don't I?" Her nod was clear. I nudged Sawyer into the Men's room and I went into the Ladies. Again, if you are not Catholic, you must understand desecration of the host is a mortal sin. It is akin to desecrating the body of Jesus. The only option I had was ingesting the host myself. I did. I shall spare us both the details of that experience.
Please know, that this was a very pivotal moment for me as a Catholic. Seriously. I briefly debated the alternatives before recognizing that I had no doubt what I needed to do. It was not enjoyable. Perhaps saying that is a sin, I hope not. But I am happy with the decision I made. There was no time to second guess myself as I now needed to get Sawyer back down to our pew before mass ended. I'm not sure why that was so important at the moment, but it was.
I cracked the door of the Men's room and said, "Sauce?" A booming voice (which did NOT belong to my eight year old son) came back, "Someone's in here!" I enlisted the help of a teenage boy we knew. I begged him to go in and see what was up. He came out smiling and said, "He couldn't undo his belt." Are you kidding me? I had gone through an entire examination of my conscience and discernment of my faith and he hadn't gone to the bathroom yet?!? Unbelievable. I waited, suddenly having an inkling of what purgatory must feel like, until he came out, shirt untucked belt unbuckled, pants 1/2 way zipped. I put him back together a la Clark Kent into Superman and rushed him down the aisle. As we sat down the Priest and Clergy stood to process out. Phew.
I vaguely remember walking to the parish activity center and the beginnings of a reception. Sawyer wanted nothing to do with the crowd and honestly, neither did I. I did chug a glass of punch though.
Five weeks have passed since that fateful Saturday. Each week I have Sawyer walk down the aisle next to me. Each week we arrive at the Priest and he gives Sawyer a "What'll it be?" look. And each week so far, Sawyer has given the slightest shake of his head. The Priest tells me not to worry. I should continue to bring him up each week and someday he will Receive. It may be the 27th time, it may be the 87th, it may even be the 147th, but it is important to give him the chance.
I don't know how long it will take. Only God knows that. And perhaps Sawyer. In the meantime, I tell myself it is okay because Sawyer did Receive his First Holy Communion as if it was his First Holy Communion, His Last Holy Communion, His Only Holy Communion.
Editors note: Today, December 5, 2015 marks the 30th week since Sawyer's First Holy Communion. He has yet to take the host again.
