The context is important to this poem. In a Christian church I belong to, all worthy men 12 years old and above can hold the Priesthood. One of their duties is to pass the Sacrament, (similar to Communion) to the congregation.
To “take the Sacrament”, a person has to be worthy, and want to.
I am not in that place yet in my life.
Sometimes I wonder if God remembers me. Although I know in my heart and mind that He and Jesus love me, sometimes … I don’t “feel it”.
One of the young men in the congregation has Downs Syndrome. He has had several brain surgeries and back operations, but has never complained. He always smiles and, as many people with Downs Syndrome do, seems to just radiate love.
On this particular Sunday, this young man passed me the Sacrament tray, which I passed down the row without taking any of the bread or water offered. As the tray was handed back to me, and I gave it to him, I glanced up. This is what happened:

He glances at me/
and smiles,/
a young man-child./
And tho I can’t partake/
what is offered there,/
I c in his face/
HIS care./
And in boyish eyes I c/
God’s love 4 me.