PIZZA (Gluten Free): The staple diet of every youth group.

By now I should know that I don't even need to ask a Catholic youth group what they want to eat at a youth group function.  There is always and only one answer, "PIZZA!".  Every youth group that I have been involved in has the same menu, just a different source. 

Some like the fast, phone-in order pizzas from Pizza Hut or Godfathers.  Other groups enjoy baking their own from the local take-and-bake chain, Papa Murphy.  One group just wanted to pick up grocery store pre-made pizzas to pop in the oven.  The type varies slightly, but usually we have the cheese-only crowd, the pepperoni-only group, a veggie lover's crew, and gotta-have-lots-a-meat team.

We've entered our second year of youth group with Nate.  The first year I was busy with other events on our parish campus; daughter Emily had her own activities in the school building, only twenty yards from the youth room.  This year, Nate is going to be on his own for the 90 minutes of youth group as Emily's group is meeting on another night of the week.  Nate's diet is becoming more and more his own monitoring; less and less am I informed in advance about special pizza nights or pot-luck snack events.

I've had a year to prepare for this new independence and time to ask friends in other churches for suggestions.  One friend just doesn't allow their teenage child out of sight for any such events and has given strict rules to never eat anything unless the parent has verified the gluten-free purity of the food.  In short, unless it comes from their kitchen, the teen is never allowed any other foods.  This is a bit too strict for our family.  Our goal is to encourage Nate to be responsible for all food that enters his body, whether we are present or not.  This has been a gradual increase of independence.  In their strict regimented diet, I am concerned about it becoming the battle point in some late-teen or early adulthood rebellion.

On the other extreme, not a healthy one, another friend just allows her celiac child to eat whatever is present, "One day a week of forbidden foods will help keep him on the diet for the other six days.".  This is not a healthy option for Nate, as with gluten foods he stopped growing and Nate really hopes to pass his dad in height.  Philosophically this approach does not match our belief, Nate is still learning to make choices in the midst of his peers and under peer pressure.  We want him, in many different scenarios, to make the statement that he will choose what is best for his body, mind, and soul, even if it is different from the group.  Practicing this with something familiar to him, like gluten-free foods, is just a small rehearsal for the big issues that will come along in the future.

For the earlier years of Religious Education, we kept a box of gluten-free snacks for "emergency" snack raids.  A surprise special birthday celebration for a classmate would bring thick-frosted-gooey cupcakes to class; out comes Nate's special gluten-free snack box for a chocolate treat.  The solution for us in youth group has been to create a freezer box of a couple gluten-free pizzas and a quick microwaveable meal.  (Special treats!  We make everything from scratch at home, so things in cardboard that just need heating seem like the royal treatment.)

Nate knows how to read labels for chips and candy; and he makes great choices, keeping a good balance of sugars, carbs, and proteins.  There seems to be a regular appearance of popcorn at youth group nights, something that Nate knows to gravitate towards.  However, occasionally something different comes, a nacho dip, corn dog dippers, sub-sandwiches, or cheese and crackers.  It's on these nights that Nate has the hardest time.  He's hungry, the choices are limited or non existent.  A once-and-a-while fasting until he reaches home is tolerable, but a regular weekly fast from the community gathering around the snack table seems to be a sentence for starvation for a young male teenager.

Personally, I feel that being celiac should not be a trial of deprivation.   Others need to know that we want to be aware of special event; we would like to bring fresh gluten-free pizza or gluten-free cookies. Nate's does not need to regularly go without,  but neither do I need to become the gluten-free martyr, "It is SUCH  a hassle to bring gluten-free foods.  Why doesn't anyone ever remember to bring gluten-free foods?  Nate is special and should get first choice through the line before the gluten-free foods are gone."

I have to admit, that even though I do not voice these complaints aloud at the event, I have felt them and in a private moment gripped to close friends and my husband.  My voice has whined.  I have groaned as walked into a youth group meeting to see pizza boxes ready to be served.  I have counted to ten, knowing that a positive comment to encourage advanced warning would make it easier for me to provide options for Nate.  Nate is the first in a long string of celiac kids, coming through the parish.  The need for gluten-free options is not going to disappear after Nate graduates.  Maybe I am just the forerunner and carving the path for the families to follow.  My attitude and time invested to share, will make it easier for the others coming up in another year.  My attitude will make it easier for the other parents when they make requests.

The youth group leader at our parish has been really wonderful.  She tries to remember to give me a schedule of special food events.  She has a place for Nate's special snacks.  On a recent pizza feed, she ordered pizza from a more expensive source so that everyone had pizza from the same boxes.  Food is a common place for all communities to gather, teenagers are no exception.  It is her extra effort that allows Nate to belong and not to feel like the outsider.  

Being a Catholic Youth Group, the center of their lives is Christ and the center of the Mass is the Eucharist.  Being able to gather around the snack table and not feel excluded may not seem significant to an adult, but to a teenager, partaking and enjoying pizza (gluten and gluten-free) with friends means you belong, you are in communion with your friends.  For Nate, being able to gather with his friends at the altar and share in the Lord's Supper, with a low-gluten wafer, is a moment to be part of the Body of Christ, to belong to the Catholic community.

Bread of Life -- Thanksgiving for the Low-Gluten Wafers

Gluten-free bread has become the bread of our lives. We make it from scratch, we buy it in bulk to put in the freezer, we go out of our way to stores that carry our favorite brands, and somedays we just eat our least favorite brand to satisfy hunger.

The Eucharist is also our Bread of Life. This is an imagery that is so prevalent in our liturgy; it's in our scripture, our prayers, and in our music. Of all the music that we sing, John Foley's One Bread, One Body holds a special imagery for me.

One bread, one body, one Lord of all,

One cup of blessings which we bless.

And we, though many throughout the earth,

We are one body in this one Lord.

(John Foley, Oregon Catholic Press, Breaking Bread,

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYlJC26-Ch0 )

This great table that we gather around, no matter where we live around the world; no matter what car we drive to arrive at mass, or whether we walk or bike; no matter if we are mothers, sons, fathers, or daughters; no matter if our skin is tan or beige or peach; no matter if we eat a wheat wafer or a low-gluten wafer, we are the body of Christ. We are One body.

What does that One Body look like beyond the table. There are divisions, just look in the fellowship hall; someone forgot to bring the promised gluten-free pasta for the Italian dinner, so Nate and the other celiac parishioners get salad and sauce. Gladys, with her diabetes, skips the desert, or at least only enjoys one forkful. Steve is avoiding the wine, as he has been battling with alcohol and even one glass can become addictive. The Ingalls family is vegetarian, so they bring their own veggie sauce. Baby David is not yet eating solids, so his dinner comes in the liquid form from behind a discrete blanket thrown over mom's shoulder.

Leaving the dinner, each of us goes home to find different foods in our cupboards. For some, it is rice and beans, others enjoy the meat & potatoes, and for another family, the cupboard looks bare until the food bank opens Monday evening. If we were truly One, I wonder if all of us would go to bed content.

It's a circle that we live. When we partake of the Body of Christ, we are to live more fully as the Body of Christ. As we live out that life, those around us are more fully blest, desire to find out our motivation, and seek to find Christ. They in turn, come to the table that gives life. It is simple acts that we model of Christ's that bring us closer and inspire us to return each week and live more holy lives.

Blessed Mother Teresa is quoted as to having said, that we are to find the poorest of the poor in our own communities to serve. We all don't need to leave our homes and travel to India to serve in order to live holy lives. The Body of Christ is around the world and in our own towns, and in our own parishes.

For our family this week, we will pack a bag for the food bank; packing it to provide for those that are the poorest in our own community. We will try to think of various members of the body of Christ and choose foods to support them; a bag of rice, a box of gluten-free cereal, potatoes from the garden, and something for babies that are just starting to eat.

It's bread that brings us life and energy to live. It's the Bread of Life that brings the Catholic Christian community together each week at the altar. It's the Bread of Life that moves within us to live in the example of Christ.

Each week, Nate is able to walk forward, reach out his heart to ask Jesus to lead his life, and receive in out stretched hands the body of Christ.

I am so thankful that we have low-gluten wafers that allows even more Catholics to gather around the altar. In one more way, we are all a part of the Body of Christ.

Where are the Pink-Frosted-Rainbow-Sprinkle-Donuts?

The Sunday following Nate's Celiac diagnosis, I realized we were going to need a new routine to our Sunday mornings. In the past, we would show up for choir rehearsal with Papa, and walk the gardens around St. Ignatius. An hour later we would head in for Mass, leave mid way for Children's Liturgy of the Word (C.L.O.W.), return to Mass, and then afterwards head over for the pink-frosted-rainbow-sprinkled-donut. Rick, my husband and Nate's papa, would take time packing up after choir and track us down in the community center amidst all of the other sugar high youth bouncing between the tables.

How do you tell, at three years of age, that what was the post-mass highlight was no longer in the diet? We were still trying to get across the "yucky-wheat" story and making connections to how his tummy felt sick and would soon feel better. Sitting in the community center amongst the gluten laden feast with no options was the equivalent to rubbing salt into a wound. For myself, personally, I loved the apple fritters, but I could do with out, and preferred to survive the morning minus the all-out temper-tantrum and hundred averted eyes that I predicted would occur if we could only look at pink-frosted-rainbow-sprinkle donuts.

About three years later, Nate suddenly asked about the pink-frosted-rainbow-sprinkle donuts, "What ever happened to them?". I had so successfully changed our family routine, Nate had forgotten the experience of the community room and donut feast. Our first couple weeks, we "remembered" an extra special treat that we had packed in the car. One week, having forgotten to get a special treat, we made a rare trip to the store on a Sunday. (I have a long standing tradition, since college days, of not shopping on Sundays in the hopes that my avoidance would allow others a day of rest.) There in the natural food section, we chose between dry cracker cookies and rice cakes with tamari flavoring. Not much of a "treat," but at least we were distracted.

Those early days were hard. My community of support was sitting on the long cafeteria benches often talking of the three "P's"; parenting, prayer, and pregnancies. I longed to join my friends and catch up on menu ideas, park trips, and how to live through the preschool years. My needs for community were as lean as my gluten-free dinner menu ideas.

Whether it was from sheer will or exhaustion, I had no tears to shed, yet I was quite sensitive to eating gluten items in front of Nate, or taking him to activities that were based around gluten food item. In those preschool years, I could not find any local sources for gluten-free donuts and just gave up the search. Fast forward to Nate's inquiry for the disappearing donuts, and I turned to the newly expanding internet to check out more national resources for donuts.

Typing a Google search, "gluten-free donuts," up popped Kinnikinnick. (www.kinnikinnick.com/) Double click on the website, and there appeared a Canadian gluten-free bread factory that featured six different varieties of donuts; maple frosted, chocolate glaze, vanilla glaze, plain, cinnamon sugar, an chocolate frosted. No pink-frosted-rainbow-sprinkle-donuts, but more gluten-free choices than I imagined possible.

But would these taste like sawdust? I ended up ordering one of each, plus bagels and pizza crusts. At this point, Nate was wanting to go to Coffee and Donuts because his Cub Scout buddies were all climbing on the chair racks and chasing each other around the hall. This sounded like the epitome of boyhood fun. The donuts arrived and we feasted. We opened all of them up, tasted each variety, declared them all good, and decided the cinnamon sugar were GREAT! Together we re-packaged the donuts into individual zip-lock baggies and froze them for the coming Sunday and succeeding weekends.

Flash-forward to Sunday, mass was complete, Nate came running up to ask if he could run with the other boys, AND could he take his donut to eat with his best friend Sebastian? It's one of those moments that I snapped with my magical memory camera . With all the hard heartache of what seemed to be constantly saying "no," this time I was able to offer a yes. Nate's beaming face, bright cheerful eyes, and appreciative grin are etched in my mind forever. Gone were the toddler-tantrums, he now understood about Celiac and being gluten-free.

Nate would have gladly gone to donuts and had nothing while playing tag around the benches, yet the socialization amongst our church friends was so much more enriched by a simple sugar donut.