Setting at Good Friday Mass. The church is full, the choir is heavenly and the music is beautifully reverent. Father is making points with his homily. I'm listening (for a change) and absorbing the import of his message.
As I looked around me I had to smile, I had taken care to wear my best VS undies, a fancy slip, a nice spring dress, my good sandals, and a fresh coat of red polish on the toes, and here I set among the crones. There was a nice crone on one side of me and a strange tiny crone on the other, we are all God's children. An elderly crone with horrendous body odor, shaggy hair and rumpled men's clothing is in the pew directly in front of me, so that when I kneel it is almost over powering. Father is coming to the end of his homily, all is silent with reverence. And a cell phone rings (the old school ring tone) and rings, and gets louder, as the ol crone in front of me slowly pulls it from the depths of her khakis. She shuts it off, as Father says, "that was a cell phone, not God". Laughter bounces off the frescoes on the ceiling. God obviously has a sense of timing and humor.
We go up to kiss the newly unveiled cross. As I get closer to the cross, my usual prayers for my family and a few close friends desert me, they are just gone... my mind is totally blank. Then, as I touch the cross, my prayer just bursts out, not loudly, but so fiercely it causes the alter boy to step back, "Please look after her, Father!" Even fiercely protective shield maidens need a much higher power's intersession from time to time...
A Blessed Easter to her, you & yours, Brig