(prayer)
"I went to the shelter again today. There's a young family there, a mother and father and their two children, and the mother-- Therese-- she told me she'd like to have Tommy and Augusta baptized, but she'd prefer to hold off until it's a little warmer. She's afraid they might still catch a chill. That's the big news; everything else went more or less as usual. I heard a few confessions today-- just five; the regulars. And Mrs. Simmons stopped me on the sidewalk to say she's looking forward to mass again. You know-- it still surprises me, though I suppose it shouldn't. With all of them there, I almost begin to feel that I matter again. I'm not irrelevant to their lives. I don't mean that to sound as pathetic as it does; you know what I mean. Now more than ever, I want to know I can help someone instead of just taking from them. It's better, now, I think; I've got the potential. I've at least got my feet ... or Miss Pullman is putting me up, at least, and it doesn't seem to bother her too much to do it-- though I do wonder what goes into it, sometimes. You can't have a system like this without questioning ... the methods. Not that there's necessarily anything untoward going on, but-- I just get a feeling. It's more in the way that people act about it. There's a certain reliance on strong-arm tactics even now-- and I'm not naive, I understand why. It's probably true as well that the donations wouldn't be nearly as plentiful if it weren't for the ... encouragement, whatever form it takes. Or, if they were, I don't know if they could ever be based on anything but fear. Blood appeasement; the Greeks used to do it. Feed the monster so it doesn't get angry."
A sigh, soft.
"Monsters. That's loaded language, I'm sure. But ... accurate, to enough people. It's accurate enough.
"I'm sorry. I know you can't change it for me. And if you could there would still be so many others-- I know you can't change it. But I still wish you would.
"Sometimes I think I'm waiting to wake up. That's stupid of me, I know. I'm trying to be stronger. It's hard. And I feel like it would be easier-- it would have to be easier-- if I could talk about it. But I don't. None of us does. Maybe that's my fault; I know I could stand to be more open with people. It must look like I'm being aloof, or casting judgment ... people already think that about priests, or they used to. I can't imagine it's changed."
A long pause; then a soft chuckle.
"You know ... it's probably a horrible lack of faith, and you're somewhere rolling your eyes at me, but sometimes I wish you were here-- really here, I mean physically here. For the Rapture, if you wanted; mainly just to be here. All this fear, and sickness, and doubt ... to see it dispelled, evaporating ... that's what I wish.
"Though another multiplication of loaves and fishes wouldn't be bad, either."
A sigh, soft.
"Monsters. That's loaded language, I'm sure. But ... accurate, to enough people. It's accurate enough.
"I'm sorry. I know you can't change it for me. And if you could there would still be so many others-- I know you can't change it. But I still wish you would.
"Sometimes I think I'm waiting to wake up. That's stupid of me, I know. I'm trying to be stronger. It's hard. And I feel like it would be easier-- it would have to be easier-- if I could talk about it. But I don't. None of us does. Maybe that's my fault; I know I could stand to be more open with people. It must look like I'm being aloof, or casting judgment ... people already think that about priests, or they used to. I can't imagine it's changed."
A long pause; then a soft chuckle.
"You know ... it's probably a horrible lack of faith, and you're somewhere rolling your eyes at me, but sometimes I wish you were here-- really here, I mean physically here. For the Rapture, if you wanted; mainly just to be here. All this fear, and sickness, and doubt ... to see it dispelled, evaporating ... that's what I wish.
"Though another multiplication of loaves and fishes wouldn't be bad, either."