Trying to explain the phrase "Eat my flesh and drink my blood" to my five year old son was something I just wasn't ready to do. I did the best I could while driving home from church on Ash Wednesday.
"The flesh is bread and the blood is grape juice," I explained.
"Uh huh."
"It symbolizes that we are receiving Jesus Christ inside us."
"So Jesus is inside me when I eat bread and drink grape juice?"
"Well when you take communion," I said.
I didn't know how much further I could go with this before I was completely stumped and was relieved when he changed the subject. I didn't want to say anything he wouldn't understand and I didn't want to say anything that was incorrect.

That night I tucked him in and he said his prayers and told me that he can't wait for his first communion. He also told me he wanted to start going to church on Wednesday evenings and my heart leaped for joy.

The next morning at breakfast I asked him, "Would you like milk, juice, or water?"
"Juice," he said proudly. "I want Jesus inside me."
I chuckled a bit. I didn't say anything to discourage him for feeling so deeply about Jesus. He needs that happiness to know that he has Jesus in his heart. Who am I to take that away from him when that is all I ever wanted him to know?