Letting Go of Candy, Reaching for God
Dear Beloved Parishioners,
This past Sunday, something unexpected and beautiful happened at Sacred Heart Church in Merrill during Communion, something that moved me so deeply I knew I had to share it with you.
As the line for Holy Communion moved forward, a young father came walking up with his little boy—maybe 2½ or 3 years old. The child was clutching three candies in his tiny hands, his fingers sticky with sweetness and joy. He was savoring them with that innocent delight only children know. But as they approached the Altar, I noticed something remarkable.
As the father stretched out his hands to receive Jesus in the Eucharist, the child looked up at him… paused… and then quietly dropped all three candies on the floor. No hesitation. No fuss. He simply let them go. And then—lifting his now-empty sticky hands—he imitated his father, stretching them out in the same posture, longing to receive, looking upwards towards the priest. I blessed him, saying ‘God bless you’ and he followed his father back to the pew.
That gesture of the child left a powerful impression on me, inviting me to pause and learn a lesson the child is teaching me. The child was mirroring his father—but more than imitation, it was a gesture of surrender, trust, and longing. (It can also be seen as a gesture of helplessness and begging). In that moment, I saw a living parable—a message from God spoken not in words, but through the simplicity of a child.
The candies, as small as they were, likely meant the world to him. But in that sacred moment, they became a symbol: of what we all hold onto… the sweet things we think we can’t live without—our comforts, attachments, plans, ambitions, even sins. We carry them so tightly in our hands. And yet, when we come before God, especially in the Eucharist, we are invited to let go, to surrender whatever stands in the way of deeper communion with God.
To receive, we must first let go.
And that child didn’t just let go. He reached out. He reached for Jesus, (though he was not aware of), just as we are invited to do. His empty hands became an open vessel—ready to be filled not with candy, but with grace.
That moment helped me to connect to the Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 16:1–13), where Jesus tells the parable of a dishonest steward—a man entrusted with his master’s possessions, but who failed to be faithful. When he was called to give an account, the steward planned for his future, yet it’s a future that is purely worldly. He planned cleverly – but not eternally.
The Lord’s message is clear: we cannot serve two masters. We must choose whom we are living for and what we are willing to let go of for the sake of something greater. The child at the Altar didn’t think twice. In his own little way, he showed more wisdom than the steward. He chose Jesus over candy/possessions. We need God’s love, mercy, forgiveness and more important, we need God in our lives.
The child’s gesture invites us to ask:
What “candies” am I holding onto that I might need to let go to receive more fully what God desires to give me?
Am I planning my future only in terms of this world or am I investing in eternity?
Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us how to be children of God again.