Keeping faith

     He pulled into the empty church parking lot, not turning the car off just yet. He sat there thinking about his youth and his years attending Catholic school. He wasn’t molested by any priests nor was he abused by the nuns except for an occasional whap on the hand by a wooden ruler they all seemed to carry around with them. He had fond memories of those days it was a time in his life when God was a scary importance. Nothing was done without first asking for Gods blessings. The priests in our parish were strict but kind, they would smile and pat you on the head sometimes offering a blessing in passing which always made the rest of the day seem more  important. When someone became ill, the priest would come and visit offering hope and absolution for those nearing the end of time in this world. Priests were invited to every occasion, birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Sunday dinners and summer picnics. They were a big part of our  lives and to think that some, many, were working in sync  with satan himself destroying the futures of hundreds, even thousands of innocent children who succumbed to the priest's demands in fear of spending eternity in  hell. Now decades  later and countless victims the pope writes a letter asking for forgiveness. I think it's a little late for that to keep such a tragedy locked behind closed doors for so long is wrong. I will always have my faith. I don't believe It will ever be as pure as it was when I sat in a school classroom and waited with great admiration and anticipation for a priest to bless me and pat my head with a smile made in heaven. He put the car in gear never getting  out. Maybe next week?

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