Preparation for First Holy Communion

Last Wednesday, I shared with you the first of two memories of second grade. My second memory is of my First Holy Communion. Normally, children began receiving communion in first grade. However, I was a year behind because I’d attended first grade in a public school.

            In early May, Sister Mary Anne helped prepare the first graders and me—a second grader—for communion. Daily, she’d march us over to the church. There we’d stand, the first graders, myself, and our chaperones—the second graders who’d received their first communion the year before.

            This is a long story, so I’m going to establish only the setting in today’s posting. Then next Wednesday I’ll share with you what happened on the days preceding and the day receiving First Holy Communion. You’ll see why this memory has remained so vivid. It makes me laugh now, if not then.

            Here’s the setting: Saint Mary’s Church. This brick building with its tall steeple has stood on Liberty Street since 1865—the year the Civil War ended. When I attended its grade school in the 1940s, cannonballs from that war were found in an adjacent playground.

Photo by Salvatore Vuono for freedigitalphotos.

            Each day of our practice, the first graders and I and our chaperones processed into the church in two rows. We settled into several front pews on opposite sides of the aisle. Sister Mary Anne stood at the front and talked us through all the parts of the Mass until we got to the communion ritual.

            Each day at practice, she said the Latin words we’d hear that would announce communion. We then rose and processed out of the pews and up the aisle to the three steps that led up to the communion rail. Standing about two feet high, it extended the width of the church.

            Normally, Catholics wishing to receive communion would kneel on the wide top step in front of the linen-covered railing. The priest would pass on the other side of the railing and place a consecrated communion wafer on their tongues. Then they would return to their pews.

Contemporary photo of a child in Sicily

 receiving First Holy Communion while standing.

From Wikipedia.

            For our First Communion celebration, however, we passed through the sanctuary gate in the middle of the communion rail. In practice, we processed through the gate and across the sanctuary. There we stood in rows at the edge of the steps leading up to the altar.

            Row by row, we ascended the steps. A row of the first children who would receive communion stood on the top step. Behind them, on the second step from the top, stood another row of communicants. Behind them, on the third step, stood another row. Below this step stood the remaining rows, ready to ascend as an earlier row of first communicants received communion and returned to their seats in the nave.

            Those on the top row stood momentarily. Then they knelt. Simultaneously each row behind the first also knelt as Sister Mary Anne—taking the role of Father Hennessey—walked past and placed a pretend communion wafer on the tongue of each child in row one. 

            The communicants in that row then stood and reverently returned to their pews. As they stood to leave, all the rows behind them stood, stepped up, and then, in unison, knelt again.

            You get the picture: Row after row would stand, step up, kneel. Rise, step up, kneel, Rise, step up, kneel. This ritual proceeded until the final row knelt in front of Sister Mary Anne. The communicants, their mouths open like fledglings, modeled receiving communion and returned to their pews.

A 1949 group photo of children taken after Mass

on their First Holy Communion day.

From Wikipedia.

            The one thing I need to tell you so that you’ll understand next Wednesday’s posting is that our chaperones did all this with us. Each row consisted of eight children: four first communicants and four chaperones, kneeling, rising, and standing in pairs. My chaperone was my best friend—Barbara Ann—who remains my friend to this day. She and I together created a silent-movie slapstick scene on my first communion day.

            That’s the setting. I hope to see you here next Wednesday for the plot. I’m wondering again about your childhood. Is there some setting or ceremony practice you remember this vividly? 

PS: Yesterday, Melissa Ann Goodwin, who writes the adventurous blog "On the Road," posted her review of A Cat's Legacy: Dulcy's Story. This review had me giddy with delight. If you have time today, I encourage you to read it and also to note Melissa's enjoyable book The Christmas Village. I've read it and given it as a gift to friends. It's quite an adventure and would make a lovely Christmas gift for the children in your life. 

Earth—A Bead of Memory

My first memory of second grade at St. Mary’s Grade School in Independence, Missouri, delights me. Fondly, I gaze within, at the slim volume held in my childhood hands. It’s covered with thick blue paper with dog-eared corners. It’s my first Baltimore Catechism.

            From second through eighth grade, I studied a catechism for “religion” class. The paperback books presented the beliefs of Roman Catholicism through the method of questions and answers. The name of the catechisms came from the city in Maryland where, in the nineteenth century, U.S. bishops had determined that Catholic children needed a book to learn the basic doctrines of their faith.

            Each year the Baltimore Catechism got thicker and the questions more detailed. Line drawings illustrated each volume except for the one I had in second grade.

            That first catechism was probably about 6 ½ x 4 ½ inches with perhaps sixty-four pages. Each two-page spread had the same format: On the upper corner of the left-hand page was printed a square. As I remember, it was large—probably 2 x 2 inches. Beneath the square was the catechism question for that week.

            The right-hand side of the two-page spread provided the answer to the question along with a story about that answer.

            My favorite two-page spread was the first one. It asked, “Who created the Universe?” In simple words, the right-hand text recounted the story in Chapter 1, Verses 1-11, of the Book of Genesis in the Hebrew Scriptures.

From freedigitalphotos.net/Idea go

           

            During the first week of school, I memorized not only the answer to the question but also the entire text of the creation story. Sister Mary Anne would award a sticker to those of us who answered correctly. The sticker for the creation question remains vivid even today: Against a sky of cobalt blue speckled with distant stars floated the green earth and its vast indigo oceans. Swirling over all were wisps of cirrus clouds.

From freedigitalphotos.net/FrameAngel

            The depth of color, the vastness of Universe impressed both my mind and my imagination. I was so overjoyed when Sister Mary Anne called on me and I answered her first catechism question—“Who created the Universe?”—with the correct answer: “God created the Universe.”

From freedigitalphotos.net/VictorHabblick

            Joy surged through me as I licked the sticker and attached it to the blank square on my catechism page. Throughout all of second grade I’d frequently return to that first two-page spread to gaze at my sticker. My mind was unable to grapple with the distance of the starry skies or the rounded perfection of Earth, but the intensity of its beauty enthralled me.

From freedigitalphotos.net/Chrisroll

            Today I searched Wikipedia and the free site I use for a photograph that would recreate my memory. But none were the cobalt blue, the indigo. And so I’ve given you four photographs. Each captures some aspect of what I remember.

            The artist who painted the Earth from space for the catechism sticker left such an indelible mark on my memory that when I first saw the NASA photographs from space, I thought, “Yes! That’s exactly right!”

            I’m wondering what vivid memory you have of first or second grade. For me this one is a treasured blue bead on the necklace of remembrance that encircles my life.