Prayer in the Children's House

In the beginning of the year, special attention is given to the rhythm, order and details of our life together in community, as we work and pray. The Children's House is a second home for both the children and myself, with an indirect aim of greater participation in family life at home and in their church. 
 
The rhythm of children is very different than adults, and so our method of education and catechesis with children is also very different. Pope John Paul II said that the method is as important as the message of Jesus. So we recall what we know about young children and have carefully considered how we explore the question of who is God? Who are you, Lord?

The exercises of Practical Life are an essential part of our Children's House, as an aid to prayer. These exercises are enticing for young children in their quest for independence, self mastery and self control, and in their delight to use real materials or tools to do real and important activities. Some of the favorite activities are polishing objects, hand washing, plant care, cloth washing. These exercises lead children into prayer through their contemplative, repetitive movements and their concentration in the activity before them. When we open the classroom for observation, if you have an opportunity to see a child carefully applying polish to an object and then buffing the object until it is shiny, you will know exactly what I mean. The Practical Life exercises are a kind of liturgy, with an order and a process to be followed. Liturgy is the work of the people and in this ‘House’ it is the work of the little people.
 
The atrium is a space that has been carefully prepared for the children to absorb catechesis. It has been described by Sofia Cavaletti as the meeting place of God and the child. The adult is merely an indirect aid in each child's discovery of prayer and their relationship with Jesus, because it is the Holy Spirit, who is the master teacher inside of each one of them. Of course the children need an adult to proclaim the Scriptures and to model prayer, relationship, grace and courtesy, and virtue. The children need to see presentations, often a one-on-one opportunity to show a material or proclaim a Scripture, or share a story. We call it a presentation, because it is a little "present" that is offered, and the way that each child responds to this present, (this gift) is their prayer.

Each day, after a morning of “responding to their gifts" in the classroom, we gather at the prayer table to give thanks to God, who is the ultimate giver of all gifts. Prayer is the aim of the atrium and everything that we do in this space; helping children enter into the discovery of God in their souls and nurturing that relationship. The prayer of young children most often sounds like silence, thanksgiving or "I love..." Often the prayers that I hear at the prayer table are, "Thank you God for my mom and dad... For my baby sister... For my friends... For flowers... For birthdays... For Grandma and Grandpa...for rocks...". (I even heard last week, "for rain, that makes mud..." ) Children also often offer prayer of praise, "I love you Jesus... I love the Good Shepherd... I love my mom and dad… I love my house…”
 
We celebrated the Feast of the Guardian Angels this week, and I brought a group of older children over to the Oratory in our gym. As you know, we have a small model altar and a model tabernacle in our atrium, but we went to the chapel and oriented the children to the chapel by naming things we knew and some new things that maybe we didn’t know, like the Altar Rail and the Tabernacle. We offered our prayers of thanksgiving, praise, and silence just as the angels do. I showed a gesture of prayer called Genuflection, where we make our body small before the large Altar and Tabernacle. This is a gesture that the angels make and I shared a little of what I know about guardian angels: from the moment that each of us began to grow in our mothers belly, our guardian angel has been with us and will always be with us. Our guardian angel can guide us in all that we do. We can talk to our guardian angel and ask for help in our choices that we make at school, even which material to choose. Our angel protects us and keeps us safe, and guides us in our friendships. But the most important job of our guardian angel is to present us to God. We were all feeling very grateful for our guardian angel.

The life of the atrium and our classroom offers orientation to the outside world around us and our life of work and play united with prayer. For young children, this trinitarian aspect of life is all one and the same. Work is their play, play is their work and all of it is permeated by the transcendent which is ever present in young children.

Independence

The Young Children’s House continues its wonderful journey of growth and learning with the children.  I want to reflect on one of the central principles of Montessori education – INDEPENDENCE. This concept is at the heart of everything we do in the classroom, and it extends far beyond simply encouraging children to complete tasks by themselves. Independence is about empowering children to be confident, self-sufficient individuals who can navigate their world with competence and self-assurance. Montessori saw independence as both a physical and psychological achievement, a process that unfolds gradually as the child grows, learns, and refines their abilities.

In our toddler environment, this drive for independence is evident in nearly everything the child does. Their mantra, although unspoken, is clear – “Help me to do it myself.” Every day, we see children eagerly working toward mastering tasks on their own. You might have noticed this from the photos we share with you on Transparent Classroom, pictures of your child engaged in familiar activities, perhaps sitting in a chair, pouring water from a pitcher, doing a puzzle, window washing, riding the trike, climbing up and down the stairs, washing hands, pushing/pulling objects, or polishing an object. You may wonder why we capture similar moments repeatedly, but there’s a reason for it – your child is working hard to master these skills, and repetition is key to that mastery. These are necessary steps in their journey towards independence. Children achieve independence through continuous activity. It’s not something that happens overnight, but rather through constant effort, practice, and repetition. With each task they take on they are building essential skills. Independence is not a destination but a journey that evolves over time, and this journey is supported by several key elements within the Montessori environment.

One of the most fundamental components in supporting independence is appropriate clothing. Children need to wear clothing that allows them to move freely and comfortably as they learn to dress and undress themselves. In the classroom, we offer dressing frames that allow children to practice essential skills like fastening buttons, zippers, Velcro, snaps, and buckles. These small, practical tasks develop fine motor skills and help children take responsibility for their own clothing, an important step toward becoming more self-reliant. The ability to dress independently is more than just a skill, it’s a confidence booster that shows children that they are capable of taking care of themselves.

The Montessori classroom, the prepared environment, is carefully designed to support a child’s quest for independence. Everything is thoughtfully arranged to be accessible and inviting to your child. From child-sized furniture to low shelves with easily reachable materials, the space is designed so that the child can explore and engage without the constant need for adult assistance. This helps the child feel empowered – they can choose what they want to work on, select the materials they need, and return them to their proper place afterward. In doing so, they’re learning responsibility, order, and how to take control of their own learning experience.

Another essential aspect of fostering independence is freedom of movement. In the Montessori classroom, children are not confined to specific tasks or areas for set periods of time. They are given the freedom to move about the space, choosing activities that interest them and working on them for as long as they wish. This freedom allows them to develop both physically and mentally. For instance, walking up and down stairs builds strength, coordination, and confidence, while the simple act of sitting on a chair teaches balance and control. As children engage in pushing or pulling objects around the classroom, they learn how to navigate their environment with care and purpose.

Independence also involves mastering practical life skills, which are a core part of the Montessori curriculum. Practical life activities, such as sweeping the floor, food preparation, or polishing an object, provide children with opportunities to practice real-life tasks in a meaningful context. These activities are not only valuable for developing coordination and focus but also for building confidence. When children complete a practical task, they gain a sense of accomplishment, knowing that they are contributing to their environment and taking responsibility for their actions. These tasks are designed to be self-correcting, allowing children to learn from their own mistakes without needing constant adult intervention.

Repetition plays a huge role in the young children’s development. When children choose to repeat the same activity over and over again, they are working toward mastery. This might be why you see some pictures of your child engaged in the same tasks day after day. Each time they repeat a task, they are refining their movements, increasing their focus, and developing their confidence. Mastery comes from this process, and it’s through repetition that the child solidifies their independence.

Adults play a significant role in the child’s journey toward independence, though it might not always be the role we expect. Often, the adult can be the obstacle, standing between a child and their independent growth. It’s tempting to step in and help when we see them struggling, but in Montessori, we recognize the importance of allowing children to work through challenges. By stepping back and giving them the time and space they need to figure things out, we foster resilience and problem-solving skills.

The adult’s role in the Montessori classroom is to prepare and maintain an environment that supports the child’s self-directed learning. We carefully select materials, arrange the space, and demonstrate how to use materials and engage in daily activities. We model behaviors and activities, not by doing the work for them, but by showing them how it’s done and then allowing them the freedom to practice and explore on their own. Additionally, we strive to protect your child’s concentration, minimizing interruptions and ensuring they have the time to focus deeply on their work.

In this process, language plays an important role. By communicating clearly and respectfully, we empower children to express their needs and make choices. We tailor our support to meet each child’s unique developmental stage, offering the right balance of guidance and freedom. In this way, we ensure the child feels both supported and capable of taking on the challenges that come with growing and gaining independence.  Through thoughtful preparation, careful observation, and an understanding of each child’s developmental needs, we create an environment where children feel confident in their abilities to care for themselves, their surroundings, and one another. It’s such a joy to watch this process unfold in the classroom, and we are grateful to be part of your child’s journey.

Artwork in the Atrium

I have been badly neglectful by hardly mentioning our atrium in our first month of weekly updates.  In case you are new to our school community, you might not know much about what an "atrium" is and what happens there.  Let me break it down.
 
First of all, a Catholic Montessori school such as ours is not simply a Montessori school with some faith sprinkles dusted on.  Rather, it is the vision of Maria herself fully realized.  One of the tiny tragedies in the great mosaic of 20th century carnage in the years between 1914 to 1945 is that almost as soon as Maria Montessori set up her full educational vision in Barcelona--schools with primary and elementary classrooms and a fully integrated academic and spiritual program--she had to flee the unrest that would culminate in the Spanish Civil War.  The case can be made that she never had a home again.  She ended her life traveling around training teachers and addressing audiences about how a sea change had to occur in education and childrearing if we were ever to live in a society free of war and genocide.  Away from classrooms of her own, it would be left to her successors to flesh out her ideas about the education of the elementary child and the religious formation of children.  Her son Mario carried on her mission of training teachers and designed many new materials for the elementary aged child, based on his mother's writings collected in Spontaneous Activity in Education and The Advanced Montessori Method.
 
In much the same way, Montessori left us with her thoughts on religious instruction collected in The Child in the Church and On Religious Education, as well as a slim volume on orienting children to the Mass.  Beginning in 1954, the Italian scripture scholar Sofia Cavalletti and the Montessorian Gianna Gobbi took up the mantle and put in decades of tinkering with the materials designed by Montessori, inventing new ones, and, most importantly, observing children working in the classroom.  Visualizing these classrooms as the entryway into the Church, they began calling each one an atrium.  Like our academic areas, each is a prepared environment designed for the child's independent use and exploration.  Their pedagogy, as you know, is entitled The Catechesis of the Good Shepherd.
 
In the primary classrooms, the atrium is an area of the classroom.  This illustrates to me an important reality: that to our school, the spiritual formation of the child is a subject as important as math or language.  Looking at it another way, the atrium works are the connective tissue of the whole body.  They are foundational.  Looking at it yet another way, the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd is the soul of our school; the essential part, the life principle.  I think it significant that some members of our wider community come to our property on Fitzwater Drive to visit an atrium, but not a single one comes for the academic subjects to the exclusion of catechesis.  We are not the kind of Catholic school to demand your child wear a plaid skirt, pray before lunch, and pat ourselves on the back as if that was the summation of the faith.  It is in our bones, the substance of our roots.  It is by being truly ourselves that we can be truly welcoming of the beloved members of our community who share our mission, but not our Catholic Christian religion.
 
When I first read Sofia Cavalletti's books over the course of the winter of 2015 I was struck by how many photos of student art she included.  Befitting the Montessori cliche of "process, not product", the work was not chosen because it was beautiful exactly, but because it was a window into the child's prayer.  Included in the accompanying photos today are three works of art by children made in the atrium in the past week.  Two are by upper elementary students in reaction to meditation on the parousia, when God is "all in all".  They had been discussing with our catechist, Mrs. de Bernardo about the beauty we will witness at that time beyond time.  Colors we have never dreamed of will be visible.  And in the center of each picture is the Lord, appearing to our hunger and thirst as Eucharistic bread and wine.

Now take a moment to look at our other piece of art, created by a boy in his second year of elementary study.  This work was done following up a presentation with La Fettuccia.  This work, named after the Italian word for "ribbon" is an immensely long fabric timeline which runs from creation to parousia.  It is a chance to experience a God's-eye-view of the grand swath of the universe's history.  Children meditate on the three grand moments of this history: creation, redemption, and parousia.  God created this universe in love.  In His great act of love, He freed us.  At the end of time He will come again and God will be all in all.  In the atrium, a child's work is his prayer and his prayer is his work.  

Let us dive into this young man's prayer.  Let me be clear, that this will be a sort of meditation on a meditation.  Neither Mrs. de Bernardo nor I have gone in depth with this child into what he was thinking when he drew this or that detail.  We certainly will do that sometimes, but this has been a busy week and we did not get to it.  An older edition of Gianna Gobbi's book is entitled Listening to God with Children.  I offer this meditation in that spirit.

In the photo of his work you probably will find your eye drawn first to three crosses.  Crosses are a major motif in this child's work.  This time the cross is presented as it appears on our atrium timelines as a symbol of the parousia--a cross superimposed on the globe.  There are three.  What could it mean?  Are they the three crosses of calvary, somehow each transfigured, in a sense, by the Lord's triumph?  It would be saying too much to assume this student means anything at all about the ultimate fate of the two bandits crucified with Christ, but Mrs. de Bernardo and I both found ourselves thinking of this as we discussed the fruit of this student's contemplation.  Perhaps his mind was more on those three moments of the sequence which is a touchstone of so much of the lower elementary student's atrium work: creation-redemption-parousia.  I found myself remembering how the mystics have sometimes described the whole of the new creation as being ablaze with God Himself, just as the burning bush was when God told Moses to take his sandals off and revealed to him His unpronounceable name.  And what of the cross of the redemption presented in the light of parousia?  God's triumphant work on the cross will never be superseded.  The Lamb who will be the light of the New Jerusalem is still the Lamb "slain from the foundation of the world".  I need to be constantly reminded that it was by His wounds that the disciples recognized the risen Lord.  
 
Below on the left stands the Good Shepherd standing in triumph, holding his sheep aloft.  Both are in the rapture of joy.  One thing I would like to point out, is that this boy took a familiar image--that of the Good Shepherd--and manipulated it to his needs, changing their postures and facial expressions.  In the center is Jesus walking on water.  To the right of him is a lamb marked as "a 100 lamb".  By this does he mean the hundredth lamb, the one for whom He left the 99?  I could meditate the rest of my life on the image of Christ walking on water to save that lost lamb.  Christ did the impossible to save us.  Every moment of His earthly life, each teaching, each nature miracle, each healing was a loving act to go out into the wilderness to find the sheep that was lost.  
 
I suppose you could say that I am overloading the art of a seven year old with all sorts of dubious significance and airy fairy nonsense.  With my rational adult mind I am eager to make all sorts of connections using this boy's work.  But do not say that I am giving it more meaning than he intended.  This work was his prayer, his worship.  I would argue that there is infinite meaning in this picture.  Some he intended with his rational mind.  Some I recognized with mine.  Some of the depth of content is only known to the Spirit, which intercedes by inexpressible groanings, and sometimes with colored pencils.