I know who's running Children's Liturgy. I see her there, sitting next to Kinnera and Hildegard. I checked last week's bulletin to be sure. And then Fr. Miguel calls kids up.
Jenny, the helper this week, is there, looking nervous. I glance over at Sr. Cheryl, but she just sits. Doesn't even notice. Tick. Tick. Tick.
I get up and join them in the back with a missalette. Jenny leans over to me as we head downstairs: "I didn't plan anything. I'm not the catechist this week."
"I know," I tell her. "Sr. Cheryl is."
"Right."
"Look, I'll get something ready at the table. Go ahead and read the readings and the Gospel and we'll get something together."
The gospel is a harbinger of Pentecost. I leave you my peace. My gift of peace.
So we sit in the circle and talk about peace--inner peace, not world peace. When is your most peaceful time of day? I ask them. And they respond. Mornings. When my sister isn't home. When my dad leaves for work and my mom is in the kitchen. Right before I go to sleep when the nightlight is on.
We pray for relevant things--the people of Haiti, shrimp fishermen on the gulf coast (honest, that wasn't me). And we head back upstairs to the double baptism around the font.
Perfect.
Conversations with Middle Schoolers #55
9 years ago
1 comments:
I'll have you know my daughter was proud that she remembered to pray for the flood victims in Nashville. Obviously never noticed that you had nothing prepared. She is so happy to go to children's liturgy and DO something instead of sitting with us to listen. Many thanks to all of you who work with the children so the rest of us can get something out of the liturgy!
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