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"This is the body of Christ, broken for you."

"The body of Christ, broken for you."

Sammy's head pounded as she repeated the words over and over again for the people as they came up for the sacrament of Holy Communion.

"The body of Christ, broken for you. The body of Christ, broken for you ..."

Yeah, she thought. My body is broken. It's so large, I can barely stand up this long. I have no energy, no strength, no stamina.

"The body of Christ, broken for you." Sammy had been asked to be a Eucharistic minister soon after the new priest came to their parish. She loved the new priest instantly. He had the kind eyes of her grandfather. He had the wit of her brother. He had the patience of a saint. And he didn't look directly at her enormous body when Sammy spoke to him.

Father Jerry didn't mind listening to her fears of being in front of people. He told her to think about his request and get back to him. Sammy had agonized over the decision. She would love to be a Eucharistic minister, to help Father Jerry. To help with such an important ritual was a supreme honor for her. But to be in front of people was too difficult. It would be too embarrassing.

Father Jerry wouldn't take no for an answer. "I'd still like you to help me at the nursing home, Samantha -- and at the camp for children with disabilities during the summer. We'll do it together. You'll be fine. You'll see."

Sure! He had probably given communion a million times. And at sixty, he had a nice figure. He undoubtedly always had.

But she couldn't disappoint him, so every Friday Sammy would meet him at the nursing home. She was nervous the first time. She could feel her heart beat in her hands as she carefully lifted the host from the paten and put it into the people's hands. She didn't want to crush the light wafers. They seemed so fragile.

She was feeling a lot better about helping at communion. The old people didn't seem to notice her size. She still sweat a little, but she didn't shake nearly as badly.

Summer camp time came and she agreed to help. Little children snickered at her when they first saw her, but they got over it. It was so nice to walk in the woods after church! It gave Sammy such a peaceful feeling.

"The body of Christ, broken for you." If that line of people didn't go down, Sammy swore she was going to faint. A man walked up, hunched over with age. He stood tall with great effort and took the host. He looked her straight in the eye and said, "Thank you," in a whisper. He slowly bent over again and gingerly walked away. She turned to look at him.

She gave wafer after wafer. A little girl was pushed forward in her wheelchair. She had beautiful eyes and drooled. She was such a cutie. Sammy gave her a wafer and was rewarded with a smile. Sammy's eyes watered.

Why was she feeling sorry for herself when some people had a right to complain about their bodies? They didn't seem to be whining about their body condition. Could she?

"The body of Christ, broken for you." Broken for Sammy. Broken by being whipped. Broken by humiliation. Broken by death on a cross.

Sammy could feel her head pounding, but her heart seemed to be singing. Christ's body was broken for Sammy. For all believers. Not just for pretty people. Not just for those without disability. Not just for the courageous.

Sammy smiled as she took another wafer. "The body of Christ, broken for you." This time she smiled as she said it.