soon. And the soup kitchen is off limits too. If you’re contagious that could cause an epidemic. Maybe even Mass this evening. Giving out Communion would spread it as well. You need to rest. I’ll be back later.”
“Thank you.”
The only problem with being shut in my room was it allowed my unoccupied mind to fill with unimpeded thoughts of the lessons Father O’Brien taught me about sin. I lay in bed assaulted with the memories of the first one. I could almost feel his hands on me. My shame then was still unimaginable. The sounds he made during his mini homily to me about how it was my beauty that made me a sinner by creating temptation in others, caused my nausea to return with a vengeance. He had to plant the seeds of righteousness into my very soul so I could be cleansed, or so he said. As I begged him to stop the pain, he reminded me that Jesus himself endured suffering in order to save our souls.
I blinked away the memory, forcing back the bile, still wanting to hide from everyone, especially my face, which turned heads even to this day. Women and even some men gave me ungodly glances despite my collar. I was unworthy of their attention and didn’t want it. Lust was something I learned to fear because I saw it every time he looked at me. I was afraid everyone knew my secret and my sin, even my parents. I hated myself as I got out the leather, in need of pain to dull my thoughts and pay the price for the debt I continued to owe my Lord for being that sinner.
On my knees in front of the crucifix, I prayed for assistance from God the Holy Father on this new journey of mine and that He would absolve my sins, every one of them. I begged Jesus our Savior to forgive me, and I repented once again, and I asked the Holy Spirit to help guide me in the truth of things. How was I to guide others when I could barely function myself?
I was certain the Almighty had a purpose for me, but I wished he’d soon show me what it was. My belief in Him was as strong as it ever had been, and I would never give up on Him. But it was my patience that was wearing thin.
Later in the day, I convinced Bill that I was sure whatever had gotten a hold of me must’ve passed because no other incident occurred. I felt confident I could say the five-thirty Mass, but if he could be on call, just in case, that would be great. He agreed. With great trepidation, I made my way to the sacristy around four thirty. I wanted to get there early to give myself a few extra minutes so I could chase away my demons.
When I entered, it wasn’t as bad as the first time, though it was surely no walk in the park. The odor of the place was what seemed to throw me for a loop. It wasn’t necessarily the incense, either.
It didn’t take me long to figure out what it was. I could smell him . Violent shudders tore through my body, almost propelling me back out the door. I prayed for strength, knowing he was gone and couldn’t hurt me anymore.
After long seconds, I opened my eyes. The vestments were already laid out and neatly arranged in perfect order, as I knew they would be. It took another few moments to get my feet unglued from my spot. With slow careful steps, I made it to the prayer station, the one I had abhorred for so many years. I vowed then that it would become a place of new meaning for me. In that moment, I knew what I had to do. I fell to my knees and, for the first time ever, said a prayer of forgiveness, not just for me but for Father O’Brien. I’d long since learned that his method of teaching and punishment wasn’t wholly right. But it didn’t absolve me of being a sinner.
I left the sacristy having survived, and maybe one day I could make peace with the room that had broken me. I went to check the altar, ensuring that everything was in its place for the epistle and gospel. I wanted to have the missal prepared as well, so I checked to see if everything was as I wanted it. When I was satisfied, I checked the time and saw that it was
“Thank you.”
The only problem with being shut in my room was it allowed my unoccupied mind to fill with unimpeded thoughts of the lessons Father O’Brien taught me about sin. I lay in bed assaulted with the memories of the first one. I could almost feel his hands on me. My shame then was still unimaginable. The sounds he made during his mini homily to me about how it was my beauty that made me a sinner by creating temptation in others, caused my nausea to return with a vengeance. He had to plant the seeds of righteousness into my very soul so I could be cleansed, or so he said. As I begged him to stop the pain, he reminded me that Jesus himself endured suffering in order to save our souls.
I blinked away the memory, forcing back the bile, still wanting to hide from everyone, especially my face, which turned heads even to this day. Women and even some men gave me ungodly glances despite my collar. I was unworthy of their attention and didn’t want it. Lust was something I learned to fear because I saw it every time he looked at me. I was afraid everyone knew my secret and my sin, even my parents. I hated myself as I got out the leather, in need of pain to dull my thoughts and pay the price for the debt I continued to owe my Lord for being that sinner.
On my knees in front of the crucifix, I prayed for assistance from God the Holy Father on this new journey of mine and that He would absolve my sins, every one of them. I begged Jesus our Savior to forgive me, and I repented once again, and I asked the Holy Spirit to help guide me in the truth of things. How was I to guide others when I could barely function myself?
I was certain the Almighty had a purpose for me, but I wished he’d soon show me what it was. My belief in Him was as strong as it ever had been, and I would never give up on Him. But it was my patience that was wearing thin.
Later in the day, I convinced Bill that I was sure whatever had gotten a hold of me must’ve passed because no other incident occurred. I felt confident I could say the five-thirty Mass, but if he could be on call, just in case, that would be great. He agreed. With great trepidation, I made my way to the sacristy around four thirty. I wanted to get there early to give myself a few extra minutes so I could chase away my demons.
When I entered, it wasn’t as bad as the first time, though it was surely no walk in the park. The odor of the place was what seemed to throw me for a loop. It wasn’t necessarily the incense, either.
It didn’t take me long to figure out what it was. I could smell him . Violent shudders tore through my body, almost propelling me back out the door. I prayed for strength, knowing he was gone and couldn’t hurt me anymore.
After long seconds, I opened my eyes. The vestments were already laid out and neatly arranged in perfect order, as I knew they would be. It took another few moments to get my feet unglued from my spot. With slow careful steps, I made it to the prayer station, the one I had abhorred for so many years. I vowed then that it would become a place of new meaning for me. In that moment, I knew what I had to do. I fell to my knees and, for the first time ever, said a prayer of forgiveness, not just for me but for Father O’Brien. I’d long since learned that his method of teaching and punishment wasn’t wholly right. But it didn’t absolve me of being a sinner.
I left the sacristy having survived, and maybe one day I could make peace with the room that had broken me. I went to check the altar, ensuring that everything was in its place for the epistle and gospel. I wanted to have the missal prepared as well, so I checked to see if everything was as I wanted it. When I was satisfied, I checked the time and saw that it was
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