Non-terrifying spirituality for children

I grew up in a Catholic family in Boston. As you can imagine, this was an especially Catholic upbringing. I loved being religious. For my first communion, my grandmother gave me a gold cross on a gold chain. I would kiss the cross before walking up to the plate at my little league baseball games, feeling the grooves of the gum I’d packed in my lip with my tongue to settle my nerves against a familiar texture. At night, in the room I shared with my two brothers, I’d sit crosslegged on the gray carpet next to