First Holy Communion

My baby is making her First Holy Communion this weekend. The nervous jitters are setting in. We went to mass in town last weekend to watch her school friends make their First Communion. Bigger parish, bigger ceremony led to her announcing, “I want to quit First Communion.” 

Ah, honey, this is not something you can quit. This isn’t dance or basketball or music lessons. (Not that I’d support her quitting any of those on a whim either. I’m a stick the season out kinda person.)

After questioning her on what First Communion meant to her and why it was important, I figured out she simply didn’t want to get up in front of everyone. 

I do sympathize with her nerves, but have to laugh, too. This is the outgoing, confident girl who LIVES for her dance recital every year. Proudly performs in front nearly 1,000 people – mostly strangers – throughout recital weekend.

We attend a small country church. The parishoners are friends and family she has known her entire life. I think Father talked her back into it at his visit at our house this evening. He assured her it wouldn’t be too scary and even let her taste the host and wine. 

Guess I better get to steaming that dress and veil.

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She did a “dress rehearsal” a few weekends ago so I could snap some pictures of her with the gorgeous windows in our little church.