This is the same daughter who is going for her First Holy Communion in
the spring. Children like her are never shoe-ins for salvation, so we
say they're "going for" a sacrament in the same way one might go out for
the varsity football team. When she learned that confession was part of
the deal she bristled, thinking of the long hours she'd be spending with
the priest trying to clear her conscience.

"You're not evil, Emily," my wife reassured her. "You may be naughty
sometimes. You may be destructive, and whiny, and prone to tearing up
your sister's social studies projects with a maniacal laugh, but you
haven't committed any sins. Yet. That I know of."

Emily's lower lip began quivering. "I've sinned against a cat," she
said tearfully.

I had to agree. The only real saint I've met in my life is our cat
Muffin, who, in exchange for little more than an endless supply of free
food and protection from vicious predators, has been tolerating Emily
for five years. She's at the point now where she wants him to like
her, but the concept small children don't grasp is that animals have
memories. Even though you're being nice to Muffin at the moment,
he hasn't forgotten what you did to him last week with the vacuum and
the chop sticks.

I was exactly the same way as a kid. My friend Davy and I--two of the
kinder, gentler boys I knew--liked to stuff Davy's big Siamese cat
Sweeney into a sleeping bag, climb in after him, and toboggan down the
stairs. Davy had a husky named Viking too, and we would get Viking
to eat all kinds of things dogs aren't meant to eat by hiding them
inside Twinkies, sort of along the same lines as Jessica Seinfeld's
cookbook. What I've realized now as an adult is that every child, no
matter how caring or sensitive they are to other people's feelings,
should be kept away from animals, sleeping bags and Twinkies. It may
be too late to help Muffin but I'm telling you my kids can forget about
camping in the Hostess factory from now on.

The question raised by First Communion season is an interesting one:
namely, at what age can a child's thoughts and actions be considered
sinful, and not merely heinous and criminal? This issue is relevant to
everyone living here on the South Shore, whether you're Catholic, Roman
Catholic, or even Episcopalian I suppose. What exactly is innocence,
and when is it finally, irretrievably lost? As academic standards rise,
and preschool children are taught to read, compete at sports, and begin
planning for their retirements, can we still consider a six-year-old
incorruptible? More to the point, how soon can we introduce the threat of
eternal damnation when she sticks entire rolls of first class stamps all
over our kitchen cabinets? Because seriously, time-outs aren't cutting it.

I'm not overly worried about Emily's soul if she doesn't make the First
Communion team. After all I was raised a congregationalist and haven't
turned to serial killing yet. But as a parent I have to be mindful of
the potential for evil that every new person represents, which is why I
worry so much about other people's children. Joey Havis, for instance.
Now there's a bad egg. The day that kid learns about cyberbullying is
a day we'll all regret.

John Lengyel lives in Cohasset. Although some animals were harmed during
the making of his childhood he would just like to point out that there
are plenty more gerbils where those came from.