First Communion

It is exciting (what a word, it's a gale) to go to the first Communion of a friend from college. It reconciles you with reality.

The best stories do not fill the news. The best news stories are precisely the ones that nobody tells. The ones out of focus. And we don't realize it when, sometimes, they pass through the next door. But they are the ones we need the most. So, once upon a time, there was Diego's first Communion, at the age of nineteen.

There's Diego nervously, as we enter the parking lot, deciding whether to finish climbing the stairs to the church (it's about time) or hurry down to greet us. The priest calls out to him, he has to come in, and he waves to us as he runs up. He is playing as a starter today. Exciting match.

On the other side, Jesus, how nervous he is too! He has been waiting for nineteen years, and now he is finally ready. I imagine it like a soccer match: Jesus knows he will be a substitute, when the consecration comes. And he is warming up conscientiously, like a player confident that he is going to score the decisive goal.

Illusionante, confiante, not ilusionado or confiado. The active participle is a thousand times better than the passive participle.

There we are, spread out on the benches, praying for Diego. Sometimes, when your team plays and you watch it on TV, you involuntarily make a movement of your body as if trying to accompany a header from your striker or a dive from your goalkeeper. And no one takes away the conviction that you have helped to score it, to stop it. All in unison.

And everyone is already nervous, because the end of the Mass is near, practically the end of the discount. Those are the tense minutes. Until the goal.

Everything trembles: Diego receives God.

Jesus and Diego run to celebrate, congratulate each other, shake their fists, hug each other. Everyone celebrates, it is the ultimate happiness. Nineteen years of waiting, and finally this team has made it. Nothing that is prayed for is lost. Diego has received communion for the first time.

A conversion is like a goal. And goals are celebrated with all the fans. What madness to be able to commune. How exciting, every time. Every Communion.