An Open Letter to the Class of 2016

“Before you can live a part of you has to die. You have to let go of what could have been, how you should have acted and what you wish you would have said differently. You have to accept that you can’t change the past experiences, opinions of others at that moment in time or outcomes from their choices or yours. When you finally recognize that truth then you will understand the true meaning of forgiveness of yourself and others. From this point you will finally be free.”  - Shannon Adler 

My students once asked if I ever blog about them. Little do they know that so many of my reflections are inspired by their awesomeness, their amazing desire to dive deeper into a relationship with Jesus and their overall wonderful, beautiful, and contagious personalities. Class of 2016, this one is specifically for you. 

To the Amazing, Beautiful, and Wonderful Class of 2016, 

First let me start by saying, I am astounded every day by your intelligence, your compassion, and your willingness to do that which is asked of you. You take each challenge and not only succeed but rather you go above and beyond. I asked for a mile, you gave me a road trip - a road trip I'll never forget! Sometimes I think - wow, these kids are so much more smarter than I will ever be. And you know what, that's okay. In fact, I'm so proud you're smarter than me. Because when you get out to the real world, you'll pick up where I left off. Thank for being not only smart but crazy about learning and discovering new things. 

You are some of the funniest people I know. I could be having the worst day - no coffee, traffic on the turnpike, everything going wrong - and then I walk into the classroom where 18, 10 or even 2 of you are looking back at me ready to take on the day. One of you starts, then the rest join in. Soon we are laughing much longer than the break allows and we've already lost ten minutes of class. Suddenly my day is turned upside down and I've found my reason for living again. You are always willing to share a smile with me in the hallway as you shout my name. You sometimes think it's funny to shout my name from undisclosed locations and then watch me try to figure out who was calling me. Then from amidst the crowds of students, your smiling face emerges with your cohort of laughing friends. 

You are also some of the most dedicated human beings on this planet. You have shown me that 3am has nothing on you because you're going to get a good grade, make the best retreat number or plan the greatest charity event. You have also told me that the wee hours of the morning when no one else is awake (aside from your 136 classmates) is when you do your best thinking. Maybe that's why you're all smarter than me. The wee hours of the mornings are when you make the best friendships whether it's on the weekend during a heart to heart at a sleepover or you're face-timing your project partner, hoping she's still awake because you just had an eureka moment. I love that about you - you're dedication to your school work but also to each other. 

And speaking of your dedication to each other - you've renewed my sense of self, too. Having gone to a school like yours, I remember making friendships like you have now. Everyday I see you laughing with your friends, I remember my friends. I remember to call them and tell them I love them even though we're half a world away sometimes. You're confidence in yourself and in others in the classroom, on the field or court or on the stage reminds me of the unquenchable desires I had in high school. Knowing you this year has made me remember to go back to chasing my dreams, too. Not that teaching you isn't living the dream, but the other dreams I made for myself. You remind me to do that. 

You are some of the most talented students I know - whether you're running homeruns, singing opera, dancing solo, making baskets, making robots, creating unique images of art, cruising down the river, running or jumping or throwing, writing poems or stories that rip my heart out, singing songs that satisfy the soul, or simply being true to who you are in every which way - you never cease to amaze me by your talent. Sometimes I think, if I ever have my own kids - I hope they are at least half the people you are. You shine brighter than the stars in the Chapel sky. Actually, there are no sun glasses that can protect against your shine it's so bright. I'm so blessed to have been able to bask in those rays. 

And finally, you are some of the most uniturnt people I know. Wow. I never thought Jesus could reach so many hearts. Thank you for sharing the states of your hearts with me on our retreats. Thank you for making retreat the most fulfilling part of my job. Thank you for the laughs and tears we all shared. Thank you for always bringing my favorite snacks, too! Thank you for letting me sleep and allowing me to be a happy princess. Thank you for sharing your truest selves with me - your best selves are your retreat selves. 

A letter to the graduates wouldn't be complete without some advice and so, while it's only been 6 years since I graduated high school, here's what I have for you: 

Branch out - meet people who are so different from you. Have at least one or two non-catholic friends who deeply practice their faith. Share your talents and use them to teach others. Don't stick with just your teammates. Have friends much different from your life experiences. Don't let yourself simply be comfortable. 

Of course, while you're branching out, make sure you call your friends every so often. Send a quick Bitmoji in the grext. Get together on holiday breaks, visit each other at college, and send snail mail. A quick little card to say hi can go a long way. The girls you are friends with now will be your friends forever, not matter how your circumstances change. I can promise you that. 

Let's talk school cafeteria/dining hall/dining hell. It can be the most intimidating place on the planet/college campus. Make sure you find a big table in the caf - a table that can seat all your new friends and then anyone who might look lost. If you find someone who looks a little intimidated by the caf or all alone, invite them to sit with you. If you are that person, don't be too scared to ask if a seat is taken. You might find some of your best friends this way. I did. Don't be afraid of the food choices - they make mom or dad's home-cooking even better. Cafeteria food keeps you humble and makes you grateful. It will probably be terrible but if you have good friends and an inclusive table set-up, it'll be worth it. You'll learn to use your creativity in a whole new way. 

And finally, academics. Chances are, you will be smarter or more able to adapt to the college setting than most of your peers. Don't let that be an excuse to slack off. Stay on top of things and stay sharp. Your teachers will be rather impressed with you. They might even ask you to teach a lesson or two. Don't be embarrassed. Just do it. And if any professor asks you to take any risks like touch a sheep's lung, diagram the Our Father, or perform a monologue, be the first to volunteer. You're professors will fall in love with you and those professors will be the ones who will write you the best recommendation letters for jobs, internships and grad school. So basically be yourself and keep doing what you've been doing for the past four years. And don't forget the tradition of thanking your professor. Once, that's all a professor wrote about in my rec letter - that I thanked him. 

I once heard a priest start a homily by saying - I remember the first time I fell in love. And so I start my last words to you the same way: I remember when I fell in love (not for the first time, but in a whole new way, whole new place). My first memories of the class of 2016 was at the Junior retreat when you all hated me for making you flip a tarp with just your feet. I received a number of half-hearted threats that day from perhaps some of the sassiest people I know. That's when I knew - I was really going to love these girls. And it's true. I fell in love that day. 

I never expected a group of students to change my life the way you did. You challenged me to be a better teacher, a better Campus Minister and a better person. You made me laugh harder than I've ever laughed in front of a group of people. You made me sing. You made me dance. You made me fall more in love with life. I know, for sure, that I will miss you each so much. And I will be praying for you every day of your college career as I watch you all make the world a better place. I'm not sure who will be my rays of sunshine, my smiles and my reason for waking up in the morning - but I know when you come back to visit, I'll be reminded of how much you truly changed my life. 

The truth is, because I knew you, I have been changed for good. Not for the good, but for good - you know, for eternity. 

I love you. BWYFA always <3

Sincerely,

Me

The Search For Dignity

"Every time you smile a someone, it is an action of love, 

a gift to that person, a beautiful thing."

- Mother Teresa

    A typical walk across campus: despite the weather, multiple people, students, faculty, sisters, walking. People are always around, always walking, always headed some place new, always dead set on a destination. People, most often then not tuned out of the world, either listening to music, talking on the phone, worrying about something. People, who will not stop but keep going. That is, unless someone stops them. Then, panic settles in. 

    I've seen it happen on a daily basis. A student may be walking, transfixed on something else rather than their surroundings and is most likely oblivious to other people walking near and around them. Suddenly, someone says hello or good morning or better yet, addresses them by name. Shocked, the student looks up and is not quite sure what to do, but by the time it hits them to respond, the other person is gone. It makes them think for a moment, but then, they go back to their routine of shutting out the world and ignoring the next five people they walk past. This actually drives me crazy. 

    For as long as I can remember, I was always talking to strangers. People tell me I could convince a brick that it's no longer a brick if I needed to. Every day, if I saw someone new, I'd say hello, how you doing? etc. I remember one day in particular, when I was about 6 or 7, in a Kmart. My Daddy was walking behind me and a man was holding the door for me. I was always taught to hold the doors for older people, and at age seven, everyone was older. So, I tried to hold the door for this man. He refused to let me and so, I followed up with a "Thank you, thank you very much" in the voice of Elvis, complete with bowing and curtsying. Of course, I embarrassed my dad, but the stranger was enthralled about my antics of gratitude. I very easily could have just walked through the door without saying a thing. But, no...I gave that man a full show of thanks for his merely holding a door. So many other instances I can remember walking or riding my bike through out neighborhood, waving and saying hello to people. I would always ask my Daddy, "who's that? do we know them?" and of course, he would answer, "no." I didn't really understand this interaction, but I grew to learn to do the same. If there was ever a person nearby, I would say hello, wave, smile, anything to acknowledge their presences. This was easy, because I was saying hello to other friendly people, other people who were acknowledging my presence in return. To love is easy when love is given in return. 

    I can remember another instance, this time, I was much older than seven. Okay...I was seventeen. Now I know that doesn't seem very old, but in my current scheme of life, it was four years ago. Humor me here. Thanks. Anyway, so it was after school one day when my friend Melissa and I were taking a walk in the park down the street from our high school. It was a beautiful day and so there were plenty of people out jogging, walking their dogs and enjoying the day. As the two of us were walking, I would casually interrupt our conversation just to say hello to the people who we were passing by. I thought nothing of it until she finally asked me to question I always used to ask my Daddy, "Do you know all these people?" I laughed as I told her know. Besides these people were easy to acknowledge as they acknowledged me in return.

     When I came to college, I made it a point to say hello to every single person I knew. Or, if they couldn't hear me, to at least smile and wave obnoxiously in their direction. Most people would give a half-hearted hello in return. Unless it was a sister, they always got really hype about someone saying hi....they always do. Occasionally, if I knew the person, his or her response would be a little more lively. Now that I've been here for three years, and have successfully scared the underclassmen with my excitement, it's expected for Becca to say hi. It's her life goal. In fact, she could probably go around all day just saying hi to people and be able to call it a successful day. That's the truth. There's something about acknowledging people; for me it's all about the love. Like Mother Teresa said, a smile is a gift of love. I'm about giving the love, my friends, all about it. 

     This acknowledgement, this life mission of mine all took on a deeper meaning a few weeks ago. Most of you, if you've been reading for a while, know that I am pretty honest, with myself, with my God and with others. So, why not be honest now? For a few weeks, I have been harboring a hurt in my heart. It may seem so small in the scheme of things, but here's the main idea of what was hurting my heart. I am used to always saying hi and quite often being ignored, most of the times because I wasn't heard (it's because of the earbuds not my lack of loudmouth). And it's ok, I smile and move on. But what was truthfully hurting my heart was when a close friend of mine would ignore every hello, how are you, or smile I gave her. It would be returned with a glare, or even worse, the acknowledgement of the other person with me but an ignorance of myself. Finally, it got to me. It broke me down and I cried a good deal about it. When I finally talked about it, all I could say was, "I don't get it. How could one human find it in them the capacity to degrade another human by not acknowledging their presence?" Then it hit me.

     How many times have I been walking in the streets of my beloved Philadelphia and ignored the homeless or the needy or even those who may have needed a simple smile? So. Many. Times. I began to think in the larger scheme of things about these people who are deliberately ignored every single day. Every day of their lives, they long for someone to reach out, not with money, but with love and every day they are denied that. As human beings, we desire and deserve the love from other human beings. In fact, we were made to love one another, not ignore one another. Humanity doesn't work when we shut out others. We have a right as a human to be acknowledged by other human beings. Some people love their dogs more than they love other humans. It breaks my heart, especially because I myself am guilty of it. It's easy to love when love is returned, but with these people, the people who need love the most, they cannot return the love. And so, it makes it harder for us to love. It's not easy to love when love cannot be given in return. 

     The situation taught me two things: first, that I need to begin acknowledging ALL people, regardless of who they are, what they are doing, and how much they can love me in return. Second, that I need to kill people with kindness. Yeah, that's a thing. I'll be honest, it's hard to ignore me. I'm loud, I'm obnoxious, I have a "cackle that can light up any room" and I put myself in the way of others unknowingly. Let's be honest, if you're not acknowledging me, it's most likely on purpose. But, I will continue to love through that. Like I said, it's easy to love when love is returned. It's not so easy to love when love is not returned. It has taken so much of me to continue to love those who have hurt me by this minor act of human degradation. However, I am grateful for it, because without it I never would have realized how much this truly goes on in our world these days and how much I take part in it.

      The other night at the Mothership, I was talking with one of the Sisters who I so often find myself contemplating the mysteries of the universe with. This is true. We have been known to spend hours past my portress duties just talking about life. This weeks mystery of the universe: human dignity and the acknowledgement of other humans. Just as I have on the college campus, I do at work. When a sister walks through the door, "Hello, Sister. Welcome home, Sister. Happy day, Sister. Have a good night, Sister." Every single person that walks through that door, regardless of whatever homework I am in the middle of not accomplishing. When she walked through the door, a welcome home was given and a conversation started. I began to tell her about my heart struggles and how I've been learning from them. She is a firm believer that we hurt so we learn. I have seen this proven true. I told how I was sitting there crying because I felt that as a human I deserved to be acknowledged and not degraded, when it hit me. I, who have been blessed with so much, have one person in my life who does not acknowledge me when so many in our world are ignored daily by every single person who walks past them. Crying, sobbing, over one person. Yet these people who have no one, especially not a Sister to complain to, to cry or sob with. They put up with being degraded every day and yet they deserve the SAME amount of human respect as I do. HELLO. What a wake up call for me. She agreed saying, all religion aside, there is not one human being on this earth better than another human being. Therefore, each human being, should address every other human being with respect, regardless of whether you like the person or not. And then I told her, Sister, Christ is in you, Christ is in me, Christ is in every single living human being on this earth. If I fail to recognize or acknowledge a fellow human being, I fail to acknowledge my Beloved. 

     And so, all of this being said: we not only learn from what has hurt us in the past, but we also must choose to acknowledge every human person we come in contact with. Now, I'm not saying, run into the nearest grocery store and go up to every single person in the store, shake their hand or hug them. No, that's a bit ridiculous. But what I'm saying is, if when shopping in the grocery store, you see you are sharing an aisle with another person and will soon be passing them, you say hello or at least smile. I'm saying, unplug with whatever it is that is plugging you up: music, cell phones, worries. UNPLUG. Acknowledge and be acknowledged. And let's face it, whether we know what is going on or not, we are all each experiencing something at any given time and who knows what a simple hello or smile could do. Of course, let's not forget those who are ignored and not acknowledged on a daily basis. Put yourself in their shoes momentarily and think to yourself, could you really handle being ignored all day long? I would go nuts. And so, my challenge to you for today/tomorrow (whenever this actually posts....) is to make it a point to acknowledge every single person you meet throughout your day, whether old friend or new, whether love is returned or not. Just do it. It will not only make someone else's day, but you day, too. And trust me...it's a good habit to get into. 

How To Survive Convent Life - Lesson #4

"In order to survive convent life,
one must learn to laugh at oneself for one's mistakes
and at God's humorous events.
One must find true joy in the Lord. "
- Lesson #4

      One of my all time favorite books is the classic, In This House of Brede by Rumer Godden. Within the first 100 pages of the book, the reader meets Sister Julian, a young Benedictine Sister who is "trying her vocation" in the monastery of Brede. Right away, I felt companionship and solidarity with Sister Julian because she loves to laugh. In fact one of the sisters said about her, "She did great things but I think the best of them was that she taught me to laugh." I, like Sister Julian, simply love to laugh.

     On my second day in Jamaica, my dear "companion on the journey," Sister Mary, said to me, "Becca, I've never seen someone laugh as much as you." I simply replied, "Sister, I love to laugh." In return, she said, "That, my dear, is truly a gift you have." I reflected on her words, as I always have with words about my laughter. I came to the conclusion that she was right; it is a gift I can laugh at so much. 

      On our last day, our travel home day, I got stopped at customs and had to answer a few questions. When I stuttered on one of my answers, the US customs worker questioned me further. I simply smiled, gave a little laugh, and in return, his stern face embraced a smile, too and then he waved me through. Sister, who was waiting on the other side of customs, watched the whole event take place. When I finally caught up to her, she said, "You avoided a lot of trouble for both of us this past week with that winning smile and gentle smile. You've got everyone wrapped around your finger by your joy." I simply smiled in return. Later, I said to her, "Sister, you know, when you share a smile, things change instantly." It's the truth.

      Last night, I made an impromptu visit to the convent at home. I was seriously planning on only staying for maybe a half an hour. However, I should have expected that, like any visit there, I would be there for a few hours. I was there for three and a half. As I enthralled the sisters, my sisters, with story after story after story of my journey, we laughed so hard; all of us, together. I distinctly remember one of my dearest Sisters, casually strolling into the community room, where we were are seated, and when she saw me, came over and "tackled" me in only a way a Sister could. She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight telling me how glad she was that I was home. I laughed and laughed. I told all the sisters about my laughter in Jamaica and with their smiles, they agreed; I DO love to laugh. 

       Laughing with my Sisters last night and sharing all the conversations did remind me that I missed that while I was away. With my Sisters, despite the age gaps between us, I can share anything, and we did share so much. I shared about the struggles I had while in Jamaica, the personality conflicts, and yet, my understanding of why things happen the way they did. I shared about having to bite my tongue, to let things go and to not let things bother me. I shared very personal things with these women, things I could really only share with them. And during our conversation, they allowed me to reflect on so many aspects of my trip, giving me the chance to search deeper within myself and how I was affected. At the end of the night, when I was saying good-bye to the Sisters that lasted til the "end of the night," one Sister whispered in my ear, "Your understanding, insight and depth have truly proven the young woman you have become. It's beautiful." 

       As I drove home, I used the time to think about the laughter, the stories and the "growing up" I've shared with these women over the years. They have played such a great part in raising me as a young women, as much as my own family, and I feel so connected in out hearts. These women have graced me with more than they know; they are family. For with who else can one laugh, cry, share, and be so deeply, personal than family? 

       Often, I replace Sister Julian's name with my own in my favorite line from Brede: "Julian was the only one who laughed, but then, Julian obviously felt at home. Sister Julian belongs here." I feel as if I belong, simply by sharing my laughter...both in Jamaica and at home. 

What's In A Name? - Convent Nicknames

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet?"

- Juliet Capulet, Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare

     If you've been following my blog, you know at least one thing about me: I LOVE LITERATURE! And I love applying it to my daily life. So, "What's in a name, that which we call Becca by any other name, she'd still be as sweet?" Yep.

     Last night I was talking to one of my best friends about Shakespeare and Nuns. I completely out-nerded myself with the Shakespeare part.You see, her school is putting on The Tempest and right away I started quoting Shakespeare just to drive her crazy. Sorry, I really can't help myself when it comes to him; he's just so wonderful. Eventually I quoted the above quotation from Romeo and Juliet (one of my absolute FAVORITE lines of literature ever) and realized how applicable it has become in my life recently. Of course, I began to tell her about all the names the sisters have for me and then proclaiming that I hope I'm as cute as they are when I grow up and become a nun. I believe the actual wording was: "I hope I'm as preshfest as they are when I grow up and become a nun."

     So, what are my nicknames you ask? Well, there's quite a few of them. In alphabetical order, they are: AE, Baby G, Becca Boo, Little Sis, Sister, Smiles and Sunflower among many more. AE - Alter Ego. Ironically, I share so many personality traits with one of my closest sisters that we have become interchangeable at times. We tend to be able to finish each other's creative thoughts and most definitely thrive off each other's creativity. When you put us together, it's a true tag team. So, she is my alter ego and thus, I am hers. 

     Baby G, which is kind of one I made up for myself as a joke but has kind of stuck. I have many "mom" figures among the sisters. They are always looking out for me, making sure I'm doing ok, being main means of support, and thus, jokingly they call me the baby, the child or Baby G. It works. 

     Becca Boo, which is a name surfaced from my past, has begun to stick again! And I can't complain! It sort of just rolls off the tongue as a cute little name. Try it: Becca Boo! Sometimes, it's shortened to just boo. Dear God, I actually hope that sister doesn't call me Sister Boo someday...the poor kids might get scared! But anyway, Becca Boo, or just Boo, it's a name only one specific sister calls me and it's pretty precious. She shares her ice cream with me!

     Little Sis and Sister. This is a name that has been adopted by so many sisters. I've discerned for so long that in some convents, it's like I'm more or less already part of the family minus the habit and years of experience. Whenever I'm with these sisters and we are meeting new people or they casually just want to boast about me, they refer to me as their little sister, their sister or their sister to be. Sometimes when we are just hanging around, they'll just call me Sis like this: "Hey Little Sis, want to go for a walk?" I'm definitely part of their family!

      Smiles. This one is a new one, but it makes sense. The other day I was skyping with one of the sisters to make lunch plans. Simply being able to talk with her made me so happy, but her and I share a special bond. Way back when I first started discerning, at my first high school discernment retreat, she and I were paired up to be one on ones for the week meaning that every day, after Mass, we would get to spend an hour together just chatting away. What the sisters who paired us up realized after they did so was that they put the Sisters' best extrovert and the retreat's best extrovert together and there would be no such thing as an hour limitation. She makes me laugh, makes me smile, and almost always knows when I need a lunch date. As we were chatting, I couldn't stop smiling and laughing so she decided she was going to call me Smiles. I kind of like it!

      Finally, Sunflower. Did you know, "Whenever you see a sunflower, you are sure to smile!"? It's true. That's why my dear sister began calling me her sunflower! Because every time she sees me, she is sure to smile. Although we've only known each other a little over a year, she is my sunflower and onion sister! She calls me Sunflower for the self-explanatory reasons: I am the cause of her joy and smiles!

    And so, friends, there you have it: no matter what nickname the sisters call me, each providing a light on my personality, I'm still Becca. Dear, old, same, old Becca!! I'm still me! And I still hope that I'm as precious as they all are when I'm a grow up nun!

Princess for a Day - First Communion

"The most beautiful thing in the world is the communion between Jesus in the Eucharist and the littlest hearts who have the fullest understand of who He is!"

     Do you remember that day? For me, it was May 6th, 2000. I wore a beautiful white dress and cute little white shoes. I wore precious little socks with little white bows on the side and my veil was attached to a headband. I had practiced time and time again on how to fold my hands and bow my head and stick out my tongue. I was ready! 

     When I think back on it, it feels like it happened so long ago and yet, I can perfectly recall it like it was yesterday. I can't honestly say I remember my sister's the same way, but I'm sure she could easily recall the whole thing for you, too. It's been a while since there was a First Communion in our family and while some people have told me they think about their special day every time they receive the Eucharist, I can't truthfully say I do. It's not very often that I do think about it. But one thing is for sure, I never want to go back to those pre-Eucharist days, because Jesus in the Eucharist is my ultimate strength!!

     Flash forward to May 5th, 2012; the First Communion of my littlest sister and my god-daughter (that, my friends is CRUCIAL information). I had come home from school late the night before and the alarm went off at a whooping 5:30 am; I hit the snooze button til 6. The little princess was sound asleep on my floor as I crept down the stairs to get myself ready. At 7, I finally woke her up. Princess Face (my latest nickname for her) got up and hopped in the shower to finally start getting ready! We had to be at school by 8:30 and for a little Princess, that might seem impossible. But, we did it! Her hair, subtle makeup and outfit was all ready to go and although I am a bit biased, she was the most beautiful little First Communicant I had ever seen. 

      Mass was at ten and so I was granted another hour of running around like crazy trying to calm her down, see all the parishioners who almost didn't recognize me because it's been so long since I've been home, and finding my great-grandmother (true story. she got lost.) My own heart was beating like crazy because I was so excited for my little Princess. Soon enough, the music began and all the little princes and princesses came walking down the aisle. I love to sing and always sing my heart out in church, but when I saw her smiling as she walked down the aisle, I choked up and couldn't sing without tears running down my face. I was so happy for her!! After the whole congregation got over the little awkward parts of the Mass by saying, "And also with you spirit," and my great-grandma awkwardly asking me when I was going to get back together with my previously dated friend, everyone was into the actual swing of the Mass. From where we were seated in the church, I could not see a thing. I guess it's a short person problem!! But, I could hear everything.

       Father's homily was absolutely beautiful. He started by asking where the parents were, then the grandparents, then the God-Parents. Out of all the people packed into our Parish, there were only five God-Parents and I was one of those five proud God-Parents!!!! He then asked all the kids why they were excited for the day!! After asking almost all the kids, he tied together all their answers and produced the most beautiful First Communion Homily I've heard in a while (and I've heard a lot!!!). 

      Finally the time came for the first communicants to receive their First Eucharist and while I couldn't see a thing, my heart knew when my little Princess received Jesus! Immediately, tears were streaming down my cheeks for the beauty of the First Communion between Jesus and the little hearts of the kids! I walked down the aisle as the time came for me to go to Communion and Sister Jeanne, reached her hand out from her pew as I walked by to pat my arm. I smiled at her and saw that she had damp cheeks, too. I guess it's a sister thing!! In both senses of the word!! I smiled at Little Lizzie as I walked past and she was all smiles!! Yep, the most beautiful thing in the world is to witness the First Communion between Jesus and the little hearts of those who know exactly who He is!!