Plain White Dresses

The young and innocent communion recipients, just 3 years shy of a decade, file through the doors. Looking like angels, the girls' white veils rest gracefully upon their narrow shoulders. Black suits mature and compliment the boys as they escort the girls to the stage. You can almost smell the purity of the recipients in the tall chapel glistening with stained glass windows. One by one, heel by heel, the kids step onto the stage to stand by the priest. Encircling the communion contents that sit on the table, the kids stand quiet while they anticipate the upcoming moments. I saw myself in a little girl with fresh white daisies entwined in her veil. It brought me back to the day of my own First Communion.

     It was a typical Sunday morning, weather wise. The yellow daffodils were in full bloom and the sun was shining on the dark green grass. I saw a rabbit scurry across the backyard, as I watched from the window. My extended family began to arrive and kept telling me it was "my day". Prior to the communion, I never really had a special event for just myself, so it was unique to have "my day". My mom finished curling my hair quickly because I was antsy to greet my cousins. After saying hello and having breakfast, I had to change into my dress. When I stepped into the simple but elegant dress, I felt like a bride on her wedding day. Full of excitement and nerves, but a sense of comfort as well. A lot of my childhood I received hand me downs from my older sister, but this dress was mine. There wasn't anything that made it truly stand out from the others. No beading, no fake diamonds, not even lace. It was a simple white dress with nothing on it, but my 7 year old mind thought it was beautiful. It was my beautiful dress.

  I clasped a gold cross necklace around my neck and my mom pinned the veil in my dark brown ringlets. My chest was rising and falling with its own methodical rhythm, but I could feel my pulse increase as time went by. Swinging the door open, I ran outside, in my dress, headed straight to our garden. The white roses seemed most suitable, so I gently grabbed one from the ground. Happily enjoying the warmth from the sun, I wound the rose in and around my veil. It was then time to leave. 

 Most of us rode in my aunt's black suburban. Our church, Saint Elizabeth's, was only 5 minutes from our house, so it was very convenient. I was happy to be receiving my First Communion at this church. St. Elizabeth's was all I ever really knew. It was my preschool, my Halloween party location, where I made my first true friend Kaitlin, where I took religion classes, almost like a second home to me. Father Michael was my favorite because he possessed a lot of wisdom and generosity. I greeted him and then met up with my two close friends, Natalie and Rowan. The three of us got pictures together and expressed our excitement and nerves for the day. Everyone gradually took their seats because the ceremony had just begun.

   After the ceremony, all of our family and friends came back to my house for a party. One of the best things about that day was that I got to play and hangout with all of my cousins. As much as I would have liked to go on a bike ride or jump on the trampoline with them, they're all boys and they mostly just wanted to play basketball and go fishing in the nearby creek. I forced myself to do so because I didn't see them often. The party was coming to an end and I started to open my presents that I received from some family members. Two particular items that I got, which were the most memorable, were my grandma's old rosary and ring. My grandma died from a brain tumor when I was 2 years old, so I loved receiving the rosary and ring. Every day I pray with that rosary and wear the ring in honor to remember my grandma and my perfect First Communion. 

  I glanced back at the girl with daisies in her veil. She was beaming with a smile of pure happiness. The priest was asking some of the family members what their wishes were for the kids. A few people shared theirs and the priest concurred. My wish would be that they remember and enjoy this day vividly because it's a day they'll be able to remember forever if they truly care. My wish would be that they appreciate and accept the meaning of this day. My wish would be for them to remember the little things of this day; even their garden flowers and plain white dresses. The priest began with the first kid, "Do you accept the body and blood of Christ?" parents cried joyful tears and awed. "Yes", a little boy sweetly replied. I smiled and I wished that each little kid here today, would make a wish for themselves.