As I entered the school’s courtyard, it was buzzing with people setting up for the Mass we were about to celebrate. It was a chilly fall morning, with the sun gently warming it up. As the students began to arrive, there was a sense of anticipation. By the time we started, it felt like summer. The mood relaxed as we began to focus on the proceedings. I could sense the Holy Spirit moving among us. 


Many priests do not visit  schools because they feel that they do not have the time or the ability to communicate with the students in a meaningful way. Some see it as a learning opportunity for everyone involved. For me, every time I go to school, I learn something new.


Children teach us that we are never too young or too old to learn about our relationship with God and each other. They love to ask simple questions that require an equally simple and profound answer. Older kids and young adults ask fewer questions, but when they do, they bravely speak for many. The questions become more refined as the students get older, even as adults, we continue to search for answers to the questions we started asking as children. We all want to love and be loved, to forgive and be forgiven. We just learn more deeply what this means as we continue through life.

  

My time that day at school was just such a learning opportunity. The students graciously welcoming me. I was very grateful in return. We began the Mass with an explanation about its sacramental nature and of the reconciliation that takes place during the Eucharistic Prayer. Communion was orderly and respectful, and it ended with a special blessing for all. As I was processing out, I thought that my spirit could be lifted no higher. Then, approaching the back door to the school to greet people as they returned to class, I noticed some students with special needs lined up in their wheelchairs getting ready to leave.


Greeting each one with a smile, a few words, and a blessing, they responded as they could. When I reached the last one, she just opened up her arms. Her assistant said to me, “She wants to hug you!” Not being one to pass up a hug, I learned through her arms as they drew me in closer into a tight embrace until our heartbeats could be felt as one. It was in this moment that I realized how precious this person was. A person so restricted her physical abilities, but so full and free in spirit. 


Lost in this experience, my mind drifted away to a place where we can all be free to love each other as much as we please, no matter what we look like or feel or what others think of us. Enjoying this little bit of heaven on earth, I soon heard a voice gently say, “She has quite a grip and might not let you go...let me help you.” My first thought was, I’m ok here. I’m doing just fine, no need to rush! I lingered in the moment a few seconds more, thanked her for the hug, and continued on my way. As I walked away, embers of that moment still glow within me. 


We often overlook the blessings the most vulnerable among us are to us. Those people most people dismiss as a burden to others. Especially those that need special attention and care throughout their whole life. I remember visiting an asylum when I was in high school. Rooms filled with people wandering around, warehoused, forgotten by their families. Their emotional and spiritual needs ignored.  I wonder how many of those people would have appreciated a hug. To give and receive the dignity of being a blessing to God and others.  Thank God that we have found a better way to help those who cannot help themselves. 


People I know with special needs people in their lives find them one of the greatest blessings in their lives. They help us see the simplicity of the love of God in each and every moment. Often when we ask God for some extra help, or complain that life is too difficult for us, he sends us someone who challenges us to love more deeply or forgive more completely. When we embrace these encounters, they increase our faith in a love that is real and is for everyone. Especially for us who dare to embrace it and never let go. 


May all your moments be so blessed,  



Fr. John