Some years ago I was the Rector's warden in a parish in NL. Not being from the area, the rector and his family became real good friends of myself and my wife. One Sunday at the Holy Eucharist Service his youngest son, a little boy at the time, was seated next to me. He became bored with the service and decided to do a little exploring. He went in to the vestry, a room at the back of the church where the supply of communion bread and wine were kept. Gone for some five minutes, I felt it was my responsibility to check on his well-being. I entered the room to find him with his mouth completely full of communion bread. Suppressing my desire to laugh I closed the door and took him back to his seat. As the service progressed, he wanted a change of scenery, so he went to sit by my wife in the choir section, next to the communion rail. As the congregation proceeded to receive the bread and wine, the little guy looked at my wife and said "Golda, I had mine." Not knowing what had transpired earlier, my wife was puzzled as to what he meant by this. After the service, I filled her in as to what had taken place in the vestry room. Needless to say, when I related 'what had happened' during the service, the little guy's parents' couldn't help but find it very amusing. The reverend stated that one day he might try to base a sermon around it.