As a child I was altar boy at school. When I was only nine or ten years old, I learned that there is no greater honor than to accompany the priest with the communion tray.
Once we were told the story of St. Tarcisius: a Roman boy my age, also an altar boy, who had given his life to protect the Eucharist. Like him, I was to help the angels collect every last particle of Christ's body, so that not a single one would be lost!
When years later I went to live in Rome, I was very excited to know that I could finally visit the mortal remains of the saint of my childhood. Thanks to Wikipedia I learned that he had been buried in the Catacombs of St. Callixtus, a place I visited as soon as I had the opportunity. There I was able to read the tombstone that recalls his story: "Reader who reads these lines: it is good for you to remember that the merit of Tarcisius is very similar to that of the deacon St.
Stephen, both of whom are honored by this epitaph. Stephen was killed under a storm of stones by the enemies of Christ, whom he exhorted to become better. Tarcisius, while carrying the sacrament of Christ, was surprised by the impious who tried to snatch his treasure in order to profane it.
He preferred to die and be martyred, rather than give to rabid dogs the Eucharist containing the Divine Flesh of Christ". The inscription was beautiful, no doubt, but, to my great disappointment, the tomb was empty. After a quick search on the internet I learned that in the 8th century the saint had been transported to San Silvestro in Capite, where, theoretically, he had been resting ever since. I was surprised, as I had visited that church before.
