Years ago when my oldest daughter was just born, I ran into a college friend who just beamed upon meeting our darling baby. She smiled at me and said, “Babies are so Eucharistic—you just want to eat them up!”
I remember this as my chubby toddler runs into the kitchen, his soft feet slapping on our tile floor. Completely overcome by his dimply smile, I scoop him up and give him kisses underneath his soft chin. He giggles and I do, too. So Eucharistic they are, I think.
My friend’s words came back to me later as I underwent my twenty-week ultrasound. As the sonogramist moved the wand around on my belly, a picture of a perfect baby appeared on the screen, safely ensconced in her comfy home. I watched the little hands and feet and mouth move, and I was awestruck by how this little person has grown each day, quietly, unnoticed except for the occasional kick or spanning button. What a miracle has been hiding in me.
My thoughts turned to the Eucharist and to the profound humility of our God to hide Himself in bread out of a burning love for us. I watched the baby flip and kick and pondered the trust that Our Lord has in us to discover the miracles that He’s hidden in our lives.
In a digital world it seems so crucial to see and to be seen, and yet the grainy image on the ultrasound screen stands as a reminder that some of the biggest treasures in our lives require the eyes of faith to see and a faithful heart to love.
“I adore You, Lord and Creator, hidden in the Most Blessed Sacrament.”