It was a cold Christmas Eve a few years ago.  Will Willimon, Dean of the Chapel at Duke University, was rushing his family to get in the car.  They were running late for the communion service.  "Where are the sermon notes?  Where is the pulpit robe?  Don't forget to turn off the lights.  Everybody get in the car and be quiet!"

On the way to the church… rushing through the traffic, their 5-year-old- daughter, Harriet, got sick at her stomach and she up-chucked all over the car.  "Great!"  Will Willimon thought, "If people only knew what preachers go through."  He wheeled into the church parking lot and jumped out of the car, leaving his wife, Patsy, to clean up the car and get the kids into the church… and he thought, "If people only knew what preachers' spouses go through."

His wife, Patsy, led a still unsteady and pale Harriet into the church.  They sat on the back pew in the darkness… just in case Harriet got sick again.  Their son, William, age seven, ran down to the front of the church to sit with his grandparents.  Will Willimon threw on his robe, took a deep breath, and joined the choir for the processional.  He made it through the first part of the service… and the sermon.  Then came Holy Communion.  Will Willimon's wife, Patsy, came down to the altar to receive the sacrament, but she left 5 year old Harriet on the back pew.  Harriet was still so pale and so weak and so sick.  But then something beautiful happened.  Seven-year-old William got up and came back to the communion rail.  "What on earth is he doing?" wondered his parents.  "He's already received communion once.  What is he up to?"  They watched him race to the back of the church and scoot down the pew toward his sister.  He opened his hands… revealing a small piece of bread.  "Harriet," he said, "This is the body of Christ given for you."  Without hesitation, little Harriet picked the bread out of her brother's hands and plopped it into her mouth and said, "Amen."  And in that moment Holy Communion had never been more holy.  Then 7-year-old William patted his 5-year-old sister Harriet on the head.  He smiled.  She smiled.  And then he turned and ran back down to the front of the church to re-join his grandparents.  (The Christian Ministry, July-August 1989, p. 47)

Think of that. Her 7-year-old brother William thought to include her.  Either because she wasn't being included or he thought it might help her feel better he reached out to his sister with what really mattered—the body of Christ in the form of communion.  There's a name for that… it's called LOVE!  What a beautiful thing it is when our children rise to the occasion and teach us once again the power of love, the wonder of love, the miracle of love.