First Communion

It seems like the entire year of first grade at St. Francis of Assissi School evolved around the preparation for the receiving of our First Communion in May. Well, the nuns were also teaching us how to read, write and count but the main thing was communion. This all happened to me in May 1958. Over 60 years ago but I remember it vividly.

There was all the religious indoctrination about the whole process of communion and there was a lot about the ritual of receiving it during the special ceremony. Then there was the procession. That was important for the nuns to get all of these first graders in line and behaving properly for this all important demonstration of faith we all knew so little about. Oh, we knew how to say our prayers of course but what did it all mean? No idea. We were a bunch of six year old kids. I was one of the smallest children in my class and the procession was organized by height. I was in the first row leading the class and I had to know exactly where I was going at any given time. I couldn't just follow the kid in front of me because I was the first kid. Me and Paul. There were three first grade classes and each of the classes had about thirty kids. That's a lot of first communion participants. 

Another memorable thing about that ritual was what the nuns told us about what would happen if for some reason you would spit the host out of your mouth and into your hand. This was long before people were allowed to handle the wafer host. This was the time of taking the host on your tongue into your mouth and woe be to you if something were to happen to the host once it got into your mouth before you swallowed it. 

The nuns instilled the fear of God and they told us the story of old man in the neighborhood who was a little too curious when he was a six year old like us. He wanted to examine the host and instead of swallowing it he went back to his pew and dropped the host out of his mouth and into the palm of his hand. The host burned a cross with a circle around it on his palm and he had that stigmata on his hand for the rest of his life. They didn't tell us his name but said he would show you his hand if you asked him. Nobody wanted to see it.

The other odd thing that happened at this time was our first confession. You couldn't have a first communion without first having a first confession along with a little penance. So they made all these little children kneel before some guy in a confessional and tell him all about their sins. Probably most something like... "bless me Father for I have sinned. I lied six times. We weren't ready for the bad words and "impure thoughts" mantra yet so it was mostly for lying and being disobedient that we had to say our hail marys and our fathers. 

Two years later in third grade we had another long preparation for our Confirmation into the Catholic Church. How does an eight year old make that commitment and decision. Shouldn't we have at least been twelve. 

I reluctantly participated in these sacraments for ten years. My last communion and confession was in 1968. I was done.