The first special-needs child to be baptized was carried to the front of the altar in St. Lawrence of Brindisi Church by her mother. The girl wore a frilly lace white dress and an elegant white crown. Capuchin Franciscan Father Peter Banks carefully poured water from a pitcher over her forehead as her parents watched.

Next in line down the center aisle was a teenage boy, also dressed in white, followed by a younger boy. The last to be baptized was a girl supported from behind by her father's outstretched arms. After the water was poured over her long, dark hair, she broke out in an unrestrained bowed smile.

Later during the simple liturgy, which was conducted mostly in Spanish, parents again brought their developmentally disabled sons and daughters to the altar to make their first holy Communion. For those in wheelchairs, Father Banks handed the host to a mother or father, who in turn placed it in their offspring's mouth. The less disabled, who walked to the altar under their own power, took the Eucharist directly from the pastor of the Watts church.

"I'm standing in the midst of angels and saints," declared Father Banks at the Nov. 29 late afternoon Mass. "Your children are the angels and you are the saints for making the sacrifices you do 24 hours a day, seven days a week with amazing love."

'Now we can be a family at church'
Ofelie Aguilar from Barstow, the mother of a 12-year-old autistic son, helped plan the special liturgy. The Aguilars, along with five other families with developmentally disabled kids, first got together at St. Lawrence in April 2006. With the encouragement of Father Banks, the parents pray - laying their hands on their children - sing and do Scripture readings, which their sons and daughters act out, half a dozen times a year.

But the fall liturgy was the first time that the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist were celebrated for a group of special-needs young people, ages seven to 20-something, including Ofelie's son Raphael.

"For us it's a blessing because it seems like no one understands our situation," she told The Tidings. "We feel isolated. We feel discriminated against because of our children. People look at them different, and it hurts us. We want the best for our kids. And with what's happening today, I get chills just talking about it.

"A lot of parents have called me, have said they've been told to leave the church because of their children being so loud or because their attention span is too short," she reported. "So a lot of these parents decided not to go to church ever again. And with this experience, they say, 'Now we can be a family at church.'"

Mark Hurtado, who lives right across the street from St. Lawrence of Brindisi Church, helped raise his developmentally disabled great nephew, Wayne, together with his mother. At the November Mass, 26-year-old Wayne received the Eucharist for the first time.

"It's a blessing to see the kids in this church receiving Communion who we thought would never be able to," he said. "Just to have him receive what we were able to receive is very special. We've taught him that he's receiving Jesus, and that's a blessing in itself for him to know that.

"I graduated from St. Lawrence in 1978 and was an altar boy," he adds. "We've always been welcomed at the church. But for the past couple years, they've been opening the church for these special kids. Father Peter has been really great. He's just turned over the church to them."

Jesus and Evangelina Garcia have three children, two with special needs. Their 16-year-old daughter Jessica made her first Communion at the St. Lawrence liturgy. The Garcias, too, were charter members of the parish's outreach to families with developmentally disabled kids.

"We grew up Catholics, and for us it's like baptism, first Communion and all the sacraments are very special," Jesus explained. "We know that our daughter cannot go and learn to pray and prepare in regular classes. So when Father Peter gave us the opportunity, we feel very grateful for that."

Evangelina nodded. "I feel great because we tried many years ago for Jessica to do her first Communion at another church. But we couldn't do it. When she couldn't go to all of the instruction, they told us we needed to take her again somewhere else."

'We're making a pro-life statement'
Father Peter Banks points out how it's just not practical - and in many cases physically impossible - for special-needs children with severe disabilities to attend weekly instruction for up to two years to prepare for first Communion. The Capuchin Franciscan priest notes that it's really a "great mystery" what these exceptional young people really feel and know about their creator.

"I can't imagine Jesus not wanting to enter into the souls of these children," he said. "He's already there, but this is a very symbolic, wonderful thing to happen here. To get to know and work with these families and help them on their spiritual journeys, which puts me to shame, has been one of the great joys of my priesthood."

The veteran pastor never expected the first special-needs liturgy to fill his church. He figured word-of-mouth must have spread the news, drawing families from as far away as Bakersfield and Barstow. There were so many the reception afterwards had to be moved from the newly refurbished parish hall outdoors to the school yard.

Looking around at all the people eating pizza, tamales and cake, Father Banks was shaking his head. "We're making a pro-life statement that these kids are valuable," he said. "These kids are precious. These children are as valuable in the eyes of God as us."