The Bread of Life: A gift not to be taken for granted

Last year at this time, I was privileged to participate in the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis, Indiana. I approached the event with a certain amount of trepidation, not knowing what to expect. However, I can say, looking back, that it was one of the most profound spiritual experiences of my life and certainly renewed my passion for the Holy Eucharist.

 I say renewed because I recognize that I have always loved the Holy Eucharist from my earliest memories. I still call to mind the day of my First Communion as a second grader and even remember the rehearsal and making my First Confession the day before. Weekly, if not daily, Holy Mass has been important to me, a significant part of my 62 years of life. In spite of such a connection with our Risen Lord Jesus really present in the Eucharist, I am conscious of a certain taking for granted of this relationship.

To bloom in Ordinary Time

By Lucia A. Silecchia

The petals were dusty yellow and flecked with white. They emerged with timid strength from a nearly invisible crack in the blacktop of a nondescript driveway.   In the midst of the dark pavement, a spunky petunia bloomed.

The contrast between the delicate bright beauty of the flower and the cold ugliness of the asphalt was striking. Naturally, photos of this flower now fill my phone.

Yet, more than a random splash of beauty, the improbable petunia blooms said something to me of life.

I was struck by how little the petunia had received to launch and sustain itself.  Greenhouses, nurseries, and our own gardens are filled with flowers that are cultivated and cared for, nourished with finely fertilized soil, and watered regularly. Yet, this solitary petunia had only a tiny sliver of soil, just enough drops of dew to dampen that soil, some morning sun to nourish it, and a strategic location inches away from the tires of the cars that came in and out of that driveway. It had so little — and bloomed so beautifully.