It was summer. Vacation Bible School time in particular.
St. John's doesn't have enough parents who don't work to have our own VBS so that year our DRE made arrangements to go in with a neighboring parish.
St. Peter's in Lindsay, Texas was built in the early 1900's by German immigrants who gave of themselves to build the neo-Romanesque, painted Catholic Church. Luckily, succeeding generations have been blessed with the awe inspiring masterpiece, breathtaking in it's beauty. Retaining the traditional “smells and bells,” the structure seems an appropriate earthly home for the Real Presence of Jesus.
That year, they needed teachers. I was blessed with a group of ten 3-year-olds and three teenaged helpers.
The schedule was set up so that about halfway through the morning, we lined up and made the trek to the Church for music.
Through the doors, then up the aisle our little procession marched. My charges seated themselves in the appointed pews behind a class of thirteen squirmy 5-year-olds and, in short order, angelic voices rang out in song. Then suddenly it was time to leave…but it wasn't either. The music teacher's schedule was incorrect…it was five whole minutes until we could take the kids to snack.
Now that many wiggly, giggly short people who knew that there were cookies and Kool-aid waiting just outside the doors HAD to be kept occupied for those five long minutes…so…in the ways of Catechists before me, I began to explain to the youngsters about the interior of the Church. That was the altar. Behind that was the Tabernacle, the place where Jesus lives. And over there…that red candle tells us that Jesus is home today.
Quickly our few minutes were over…thank goodness…and we filed uneventfully out of the church for snack time.
Several days later, we were again in the Church for music, the strains of “Father Abraham” ringing out in pre-school voices. Just as the song ended, one five-year-old a couple of pews in front of me suddenly stepped out into the aisle and disappointedly pointed toward the front of the Church.
“Jesus isn't home today.”
The red sacristy candle had burned out.
Jackie Zimmerer is a wife and mother of four sons. She attends St. John's Catholic Church in the Diocese of Fort Worth, Texas.
