When Benjamin was little, and I brought him to the church with me during the week, he would disappear. I was not worried. I knew where he went. While I was meeting with someone, or having a rehearsal, he made a beeline for the one child friendly spot in the whole building. A box of toys, with a castle and plastic people was behind the third stack of books for sale. He knew it was waiting there for him, and he felt welcome. 

 

The informal service that I usually go to has not always had a child specific nook. Those of us with wiggly kids had to carve a space out in the hall beneath the coat rack. There was talk of piping the service out so we could hear it above the roar of toddlers but that never materialized. Then a few of us got motivated to clear out the storage room of its five thousand hangars and donated clothes waiting to be rehomed. The bathroom was refurbished, and a carpet laid down. A rocking chair appeared, and art supplies took over the shelves. An industrious woman built a big wooden box, and we collectively filled it with interesting toys. It was eventually dubbed the Lunch Bunch room, and became a place where children belonged. Benjamin was bigger then, but he knew about it. When I blabbed overly long on Sundays he would be the last one there, surrounded by a sea of Legos. 

 

The Cathedral has changed too. The room that is called The Council Chamber got its name from its long history of housing dozens of clergy for meetings every year. But they outgrew it, and it has become the venue for the service aimed at little ones. The marionette service that our family creates a few times a year happens there, and the powers that be commissioned lovely wooden cabinets for the puppets to sleep in. Last year a Moms and Tots program was born, and the room serves the group of children who arrive each Monday while their mothers enjoy tea and conversation. 

 

Recently yet another room has been dedicated to children. The large area that has been reserved for all things musical was passed down to be inhabited by wooden figures, children's art, and two hundred pounds of sand. Godly Play has moved in, and will begin a program that invites small people to learn about Abraham, Moses, and Mary. 

 

Even the grounds themselves have become a place where children laugh. Each summer for eight years there has been a week long event where four score kids arrive after breakfast ready to sing, and learn Bible stories. 

 

The shift sends a message. Children feel invited. As if someone who cares is expecting them. 

 

"Let the little children come to me and do not forbid them. For of such is the kingdom of heaven."