SCHOOL OPENING

THE MORNING SCHOOLYARD "Learn from me…" As the sun grants a new day of adventure I stand fully vested, knifeless for the sacrifice as unbloody as the white altar cloth. For a few minutes before entering into the Eucharistic ‘cloud of unknowing,’ I consume the consecrated gift of viewing through the chapel window, as narrow as a monk’s cell, the broad vista of the school’s parking lot. I watch as if glimpsing into cosmic secrets as little children scamper in a fast forward blur carrying the bulky burden of books on their backs as though as light as summer sunrays. The cars and vans pull to a sacred stop like a hurried procession in need of a solemn moment of relief for the Holy-Grail seeking pilgrims. As inevitable as homework there is the goodbye kiss between parent and child that places God on each other’s lips. There is the child’s wave and smile that lets go for a while of parental security as warm and comfortable as the inside of the car. As if coaxing adorability, there is a return of wave and smile that sends the hope of growth into a little heart as fertile as a field of hundredfold harvest. Then a watchful parental eye – the lens of divine Providence – follows the skipping feet until they carry an eager mind into the safety of the school, into the stretching future, as the car drives off into the demanding present. I turn and gaze at the altar and quietly revel in the unctuous vision into divine love soon to be the mystery that falls across the bread and wine, the Body and Blood of the one who says, Allow the little children to come to me.