Catechists who serve in the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd, (CGS) often ponder, share and wonder about atrium experiences together. We are frequently reminded of who is the real teacher, for the children and for us. Yesterday I was blessed with such a story.
At the invitation of the Corpus Christi Diocese, we created a “model atrium” at the Feast of Corpus Christi. The intention was to provide an opportunity for adults of our diocese to deepen their awareness of this Montessori-based approach to catechesis. Since this was to be part of the Eucharistic Congress, we chose to include works that focus especially on the Eucharist, both in liturgy and in scriptural materials.
We held our open house for about three hours yesterday afternoon. Even though the audience was meant to be adults, of course, children found their way to us and happily settled in. Some were experienced atrium kids, having access to an atrium at their parish or in their school; others had never experienced an atrium before.
We had several catechists on hand who were able to guide children and even present materials that were new to them. Our model atrium had a happy hum of combining activities, adults and children experiencing, learning and sharing.
At the end of the day, I moved around the atrium, checking, and restoring the materials for various works. This is part of the work of every CGS catechist, actively maintaining the atrium environment. Two works were both missing a significant item, a small model of a host, sculpted from clay.
One work, the Cenacle, includes a diorama of the Last Supper. The other work is called the Eucharistic Presence of the Good Shepherd. This work powerfully links scripture and liturgy. It is central to the work of the catechesis, a deep experience of how in liturgy, we live our faith. I knew that these little clay models could be easily replaced with another bit of clay, but it was puzzling that only these two same pieces were missing.
As I settled to watch one lone remaining six-year-old, his grandparents visited with another catechist. He had never been in an atrium and was enchanted to be working with the Articles of the Mass and the Model Altar. Another catechist was supporting him, so I was free to just observe and enjoy. He was restoring items to the little sacristy cabinet when he moved to the tabernacle and removed the ciborium. It was then that I saw them. The two missing clay hosts were inside the ciborium.
He restored the ciborium into the tabernacle leaving both hosts inside it. He returned to working with the basic articles at the altar and sacristy cabinet. Later, after he had moved on, I went to the ciborium to retrieve the little clay pieces. He came back immediately and replaced them in the ciborium and in the tabernacle.
Later that evening, I had time to reflect. The experience had touched me with a renewed sense of awe —of wonder. What a gift on the Feast of Corpus Christi. It is not possible for me to discover how a child had chosen to put the hosts in the model ciborium. Perhaps some child had felt that these clay models were carelessly left out on a plate. They responded by reposing them in the tabernacle. The last little boy had discovered this, acknowledged, and supported it.
What a lovely preparation for these children and for me to experience just before the Eucharistic procession! What understanding was revealed to be at work in each of us? How appropriate and providential this was for us as we celebrate the Feast of Corpus Christi.
I want to underscore that this kind of story is not rare or unusual for a CGS catechist. We delight in sharing stories like this quite often.