There it was.  The call from Mom and Dad that I had been waiting for.  It was time to get shoes on, gather at the front door with my two younger sisters, and collect up the portion of our dinner that Mom had offered to share tonight.  Dad had papers in his hands and the car keys.  In each of the five of us there was a common air.  The kind of feeling one gets when she knows she really belongs.  Suddenly I remembered the kid at school this week who had asked "What's Agape?".  I kicked stones in the driveway while we waited for Dad to load Mom's dish into the jeep.  Too bad for that kid I was thinking.  What do you mean "What's Agape?", everyone should have Agape.

  Yaaaah!  Kirk and Rene were already here!  We were at Hilary's house where we loved to meet because it had so much room for everyone and her Mom always made bread.  Our friends from out of town were just pulling in behind us and the car that belonged to the new family was parked over in the shade.  If someone had seen the three of us hop out of the jeep they may have guessed we were about to embark on a vacation.  Little would they have known that we came here or to the other families' houses every third Saturday.  The parents all insisted on the third-Saturday schedule, despite our pleas for EVERY Saturday.

  Big sets of arms met us in customary hugs at the front door and coats were handed over in the fashion that says you get to settle in for a good long time.  It took a while to get the whole group hugged and greeted but I just couldn't leave anyone out, though we were in a hurry to see if the puppet theatre was set up yet.  Hilary's Dad and Kirk did the funniest skits for all us kids.  I was the oldest child so I usually got to sit one of the babies or toddlers on my lap for the show which made me feel important and helpful.  Mom's dish was sent hastily to the kitchen where it joined similar dishes to make up a family of entrees that would be shared later in the most loving of feasts.  Actually we learned last time that's what Agape means:  a love feast.  It made sense to me, we loved everyone here and we ate together at a multi-leveled collection of tables and mismatched chairs, piano bench and step-stools.

  By the time we sat down to eat we had run our legs off outside  in games of hide and seek and tag where no one kept track of winners and bigger people pretended not to see littler people until a real thrill was achieved for both.  The puppet theatre had been brought to life for the three rows of children aged 1-12 years and for their parents who milled happily between there and the kitchen.  Didn't the kid at school get to do things like this?  I wondered.  At least the kids in our group do.  General activity of one delight or another filled in the spaces that gave way to the opportunity to play or help or talk to someone who thought you were important or funny or smart.  Then Betty would pick up her guitar and tell us to gather for the sing-song and it was our job to hand our the song books.  She could lead us in any of the songs and each of us, child or adult, got a turn at requesting one.

  After all this dinner tasted great.  One of the adults would say a prayer to get us started and when we were at Hilary's house we always got to sing Johnny Appleseed for prayer.  Sometimes we got special juice in grown-up fancy glasses so we could share bread and "wine" together as a whole group.

  After dinner we cozied up on couches and chairs, all the families together and quiet, and watched as Hilary's Dad lit a big candle on the table in the middle of our circle.  Lots of thought had to go  into this part.  In preparation for each gathering I would search my memory for the best contribution I could make.  The "Christ candle" was lit in honour of each of us and without pressure or judgement we took our turn to share our highlight of the last three weeks with everyone else.  Sometimes it was straightforward like telling about a fieldtrip at school or an award.  Other times I wanted to be more adult and thoughtful.  There was no shortage of interesting contributions from our circle and it was fun when there was overlap.  Sometimes something from  the last gathering was the highlight for one or more of us.

  The nights was dark and the jeep was warm, my sister's head had just fallen to rest on my shoulder as we drove the familiar roads home.  I thought back on the day with a sense of familiarity and satisfaction.  I had heard the adults talking at one point today while we were playing and parts of their conversation were coming back to me in the silence.  They were discussing scriptures and Christianity and community belonging.  I got the sense that our community, our Agape,  offered me, offered all of us, a chance to belong in the exact  way Jesus wished for for everyone.  A chance to belong in a way  far different from being a member at a fitness club or a muffin-stop  chat group.  I got a chance at Agape to be "filled up" by other people , to soak up their verification of my significance to the rest, to learn from others other than teachers or my parents.  I got a chance to share joy and laughter with other kids I  had come to feel close to.  I got a chance to give and contribute to loving family, first in my immediate family, and then in a group of six families.  I got a lot our of the whole experience.  I hope that kid at school gets stuff like this.  Maybe tomorrow  I'll ask him.