So one did his/her first communion when you entered second grade in primary school. The day was a big feast day, usualy after Pentecost on Sacraments day.
Before this first communion, weeks of preparation preceded, mostly during catechism lesson. At the end of all the instructions, the day before communion, we went to confession for the first time. We had to search our conscience for sins committed in the past, in church, at home, in school or on the street.
Examples of wrong-doings were given and being so thorough impressed by these samples of wickedness one could do as a youngster, we droned them of in a row,one by one to everybody's heart content.
‘Sorry Father, I forgot to say my prayer, I quarreled with my brother, I’v been disobedient to my parents, cheated at school, I took a chocolate from my Mum’s tin, and…and…in the middle of my Act of Contrition (learned by heart) the priest behind the wire-screen made already a big sign of the cross over me. With a painful imprint from the wooden kneel bench on my bare knees, I hurried through the door of the confessionbox to perform the penance of three Our Father’s and three Hail Mary’s. The confession box was so dark, even creepy, but in some ways exiting, it often smelt of tobacco or perfume.