A quiet place, set apart. Someplace where, in the busy of our lives, we can sit for a moment, light a candle, ponder a picture and meditate. A place for focused contemplation. A place for retreat.

It began as a simple idea. My pre-school-aged children attend a Catechesis of The Good Shepherd Montessori atrium one hour a week. If you ever have the opportunity to observe a good Montessori atrium, seize it. There, you will see how the materials, the sensory, enhance a child's experience with the Lord. Attentive children listen to parables and play with hands-on materials that reinforce the lessons presented by their teacher. They learn about the liturgical year when they set a miniature altar with the proper color altar cloth and a miniature Mass kit. Despite the young ages of the children there, it is quiet. This peaceful environment nurtures contemplation. Busy children work there. They polish chalice and paten, shine cruet and crucifix, and are quieted and allowed to think deeply about God. They hold beautiful, holy objects and connect with what they represent. They also learn that even practical life activities like polishing and dusting can become prayers, something that all of us moms need to recognize as well. How nice to have the opportunity to learn it as a three-year-old!

Over and over again, I hear teachers in Catechesis of the Good Shepherd programs say that their weekly hour, facilitating these things and watching children, are times of spiritual retreat for the teacher as well. And yes, the material, the environment, the method of presentation are important to the experience. If you think about it, those things are important in most retreat experiences. You can encounter God on a crowded subway car but if you were seeking Him in retreat, wouldn't you rather quiet and a well-prepared retreat master?

My children return from their atrium experience "full." Their teachers have expressed this "fullness" as well.

In this place that is so carefully appointed, adult and child alike encounter Christ on their own. It is the ultimate pairing of careful, planned environment and freedom for the child to make connections. Why, I wondered, could I not bring some of that peace and "fullness" to our home? Why couldn’t the older children and the adults benefit at the same time?

I started with two books, The Good Shepherd and the Child by Sofia Cavalletti and Children and Worship by Sonja Stewart and Jerome Berryman. The second book is not Catholic but offers wonderful ideas for presenting stories to children and offering tangible extension activities. I read the books and gave some thought to my purposes. I didn’t want to re-create a Montessori pre-school in my home. Instead, I wanted to prepare a sacred space where everyone could encounter God.

Children can learn with almost anything at hand and they should know that they can pray anywhere and under any circumstances, but I wanted something more, something better. I'd rather mine learn with good quality literature, classic art, beautiful music, and thoughtfully purchased and prepared materials (not necessarily expensive, but of fine quality) rather than Captain Underpants, cartoons, pop music and materials inappropriate for their age or development. A child can certainly play with Happy Meal toys and be quiet and content and even learn something, but she probably won't be learning what she would if she heard a beautifully illustrated story of the parable of the Good Shepherd and then was given a lovely wooden shepherd figure, a couple of handfuls of wooden sheep and a model of a fenced pasture for play.

Our prayer space is for everyone. We have a prayer table with a statue of the Good Shepherd and a votive candle. Each morning, this is a place to gather as a family and say a decade of the rosary and offer prayer intentions. Even on mornings when someone has to be out the door, time can be set aside for this focal family prayer. Then, there are shelves in the room with different trays of activities and stories. A wooden nativity set and a copy of the nativity story is no longer reserved only for Christmas. A miniature Mass kit and a box of altar cloths in liturgical colors have already seen hours of use and sparked discussion of vocations to the priesthood. I plan to add Holy Week figures during Lent. There are vases for flower arranging, pitchers for pouring, materials for polishing. There are holy cards and icons to play matching games and a good book of prayer in art. As time goes on, I will introduce more parables and the wooden figures to go with them.

I find myself gravitating to this room very early in the morning when I awaken with the baby. I relish the sacred time and place. I find children wandering in throughout the day. The older children are just as drawn to our prayer room as the younger. Life in a household of nine is not always tranquil and contemplative, but the addition of an "atrium" at home has made it just a little holier. That’s a very good thing.