A dance for the Lord (7/7)

By Drum Digital
05 June 2015

Even a street kid can fall in love . . .

“Peace! Peace! The Good Lord be with you.” He completed the handshake reluctantly and all the while a sullen expression was settling on his previously devout features. He moved closer to his daughter and placed an arm around her. She gave me a fleeting look of a helpless young bird as the father hustled her out of the pew. If looks could kill, the father would have committed multiple mortal sins as he shepherded his daughter up the aisle.

I stood in the aisle, wistfully looking along the worn carpet, as if I could see the faint tracks that her delicate feet had left across a field of wild flowers. The tracks ended up ahead in the vestibule, under the uncaring feet of the crowd, whose jostling and mingling forms blotted her figure out of existence.

When I eventually wandered back to the sacristy to unvest, it was empty. Father’s robes were hanging in the wardrobe. As I was unbuttoning my collar, the memory of my girl’s soft throat and her demurely downcast eyes as she returned my hug came back to me. Oh, what sweet words she had whispered to me! I was soaring on wings of elation again.

I broke into a little jig that soon transformed into contortions of flashing arms and legs in the best hip-hop style. I was just completing the backwards moonwalk and preparing to freeze the slithery gyrations of my limbs when Father Rodrigues opened the door.

Did I freeze! I slowly unfroze my limbs and stood sheepishly.

“A little dance of celebration for the Lord?”

“Yes, Father. A dance of celebration.”

The End.

Find Love!

Men
Women