Communion

One Sunday in spring, a row of children waits in the front pew, the girls in white dresses and veils, the boys in suits that will be too small by Christmas. Some have their hands folded, others are checking that their new shoes still shine. Parents have their phones ready, and Grandma brought tissues. It’s First Communion, a scene no communion emoji can tell yet.

The word comes from the Latin communio, “sharing in common.” To receive Communion is to receive the Body of Christ, and also to be bound to everyone receiving it alongside you. The rite is very simple: the priest or minister holds up the host and says “The Body of Christ,” you answer “Amen,” and receive it in the hand or on the tongue. Before, you kept a one-hour fast. Afterward, you return to your pew in silence, or at least you try, when there’s a four-year-old in the row.

The keyboard offers 🍞 and 🍷, honest enough but a little too “bakery and wine bar.” There is no host and no chalice. For the child proudly announcing First Communion, or the friend coming back to Mass after years away, we’d like something else: an open hand receiving a small white disc, a little white dress, a line moving toward the altar. Over to you for the drawing.