Now he was at the altar, in his white vestments, opening the book. I was kneeling right at the altar rail. The bright sanctuary was all mine. I could hear the murmur of the priest's voice, and the responses of the server, and it did not matter that I had no one to look at, so that I could tell when to stand up and kneel down again, for I was still not very sure of these ordinary ceremonies. But when the little bells were rung I knew what was happening. And I saw the raised Host–the silence and simplicity with which Christ once again triumphed, raised up, drawing all things to Himself–drawing me to Himself.

Presently the priest's voice was louder, saying the Pater Noster. Then, soon, the server was running through the Confiteor in a rapid murmur. That was for me. Father Moore turned around and made a big cross in absolution, and held up the little Host. "Behold the Lamb of God: behold Him Who taketh away the sins of the world."

And my First Communion began to come towards me, down the steps. I was the only one at the altar rail. Heaven was entirely mine–that Heaven in which sharing makes no division or diminution. But this solitariness was a kind of reminder of the singleness with which this Christ, hidden in the small Host, was giving Himself for me, and to me, and, with Himself, the entire Godhead and Trinity–a great new increase of the power and grasp of their indwelling that had begun only a few minutes before at the font.

I left the altar rail and went back to the pew where the others were kneeling like four shadows, four unrealities, and I hid my face in my hands.

As Queen-Mother of our eternal High priest, Mary continues to intercede in heaven as she did on earth. Her intercession at Nazareth drew down our Redeemer. Her intercession on Calvary opened the floodgates of God's mercy. Her intercession in the Upper Room called down the Holy Spirit upon the disciples, and the Church was born.

Thomas Merton: Conversions, The Christian Experience
Hugh T. Kerr & John M. Mulder