A dance for the Lord (1/7)

By Drum Digital
01 June 2015

Even a street kid can fall in love . . .

I was the first to pull the cassock over my head in the sacristy and slip the green vestment over it. That done, I stood hidden behind the half-open door, and eyed the gathering congregation with a heart split by anticipation and gloom.

Would she show? But of course, if she did, it would be in the company of her father. I almost missed my girl coming down the aisle, overshadowed as she was by the solicitous figure of the father firmly guiding her to a pew.

Fortunately, the father was the devout type and chose a pew close to the altar. She swayed on delicate feet to get in there and took a seat. The father was short, solid and sombre. Once in the pew, he knelt and put his head down on his clasped hands. Look at him, I muttered. How can a man be so humble in church, yet so unforgiving in his daily life? I knew that in his eyes I was just a run-away kid, living rough onthe streets.

I didn’t steal or push drugs. Yet he denied me any chance to spend even a moment in the company of his daughter.

To be continued...

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