First Communion

Quinn went to her first First Communion celebration. It was her Kuya Louie's special day! 

But of course, she didn't have any idea of how important this event was. While she worked up a sweat running in and out of the giant doorways, reaching for the mucky holy water in their vessels at the doors, and trying to catch the attention of the canine church-goers — yes, dogs are a normal and common presence in church — Louie was reverently bowing his head and kneeling to get his first taste of that wafer about which he had so often asked his parents how it tastes. 

I remembered how proud I was at my First Communion, of how I confessed to Father Hezel that I lied to my parents about how I lost my zories at the sewer plant at the end of the airport runway (in Truk), and that I bossed my little cousins into stealing some metal apparatus with a dinging dial (a timer?) with me and the only punishment I received was a penance of two Our Fathers, five Holy Maries, and an I believe (in Trukese... but don't ask me to recite them now, for all I can remember is "Samach mei nonomw win nang..."), and no spanking!

I watched Louie closely to see if he bore a proud countenance... Indeed, he was proud, exchanging high fives with his fellow catechumens. 

Later, I asked him what the worst sin was at his First Confession. "I haven't been studying, and I talk too much in class," he answered shamefully. 

What?! I thought. This kid is an angel compared to me!

And when the ceremony was over, it was like pulling teeth to get the two to stand atill for a photo. 

Amen. 

A Day Full of Cousins

It was a very eventful weekend. The cousins and the kissing cousins came over, with their parents, and their kissing aunties and lolas, and their friends. There was plenty of food, and with this many people, someone was bound to bring dessert and beverages. So the feast was complete! 

After the eating, and while the aunties and the kissing aunties and lolas sat around and picked at leftovers while discussing who was angry at who now, and why, and theretofore that's ten!, the cousins and kissing cousins went outside to play. It started out with made-up backyard games that involved balls and a broom and rake. 

Then the Mighty Quinn just had to step into the kiddie pool. What is it about a body of water, small or big, that attracts little ones so? This water was two days old, and fuh-reezing cold! So cold indeed, that lips were turning blue, and teeth were chattering within ten minutes of submersion. My cousin explained: "kids born in the winter months are at home in the cold." Sure enough, the kids who swam in that frigid water were born in December and January – the dead of winter!

If the clouds hadn't rolled in, and the wind picked up, those "arctic" babies would have stayed in water 'til dark. Now inside the warmth of the house, they changed, cuddled up for warmth, ate again, and commenced playing. Again.

 

 

Until it was time for the guests to go home. Then it was cry fest, with "Idon'twannagohome" and "whycan'twestaylonger" echoing as children were ushered and carried to their respective vehicles, buckled up, and driven home.

Thank-you text messages from my cousins and kissing cousins lit up my telephone screen, along with information that their little ones were fast asleep before they turned the corner from our house. The Mighty Quinn fell asleep at 8:30 that night. She hadn't been asleep that early since she was an infant!