Yesterday my daughter Juliana, who’s four, refused to go up in the communion line with us. “It’s not fair because I don’t get anything to eat or drink!” she said loudly. My husband leaned over, whispering something I couldn’t hear, trying to calm her.
She subsided and just said wistfully, “They should have ice cream for kids.”
Matt and I couldn’t help laughing, which made her smile. And Thomas with the superiority of six-turning-seven explained, “It’s an old time type thing, from before they had ice cream.”