I felt fat. It was 6th grade, we required to go out and buy navy blue skirts and white blouses, and to purchase a red beanie from the parish. We could not find a skirt to fit me so my mom cut down a woman’s skirt, that had red buttons down the front “Sister is gonna kill me!” Sister did not notice because half the kids in our working class parish had not purchased new clothes for the occasion and just wore school uniforms or other dark clothing. I remember absolutely nothing about the reception of the sacrament except thankfullness that I sat on the side so was not called out by the bishop to answer a question.
I can tell you almost to the minute, however, when I became conscious of the Holy Spirit working in my life through the various gifts, much, much later than my school years.
And I am definitely sensible at the Easter Vigil, adult and youth confirmations, of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, but the word “feeling” does not at all adequately describe that knowledge and assurance. It is not at all an emotional experience or one perceived through the senses but a definite conviction and perception. That is the best I can describe.
