Father and Child

The autumn leaves crunched like potato chips under her feet as she walked along the moonlit sidewalk. One song observed ‘he’s lost for words again’ while another advised ‘always should be someone you really love’.  She sighed. The crescent moon was either half full or half empty.

Sister Jacinta witnessed the young woman lost in her thoughts on the street. She wanted to open the window and call out to her, to remind her of the light of the Lord for it looked like she needed it, to reassure her this too would pass, but she sat silently in the sturdy wooden chair, holding her beads. Catching sight of herself in the mirror she was taken by surprise. The wistful look on her face took her breath away. How had she let it happen?  She had subjugated herself to worship, separating herself from the needs of others who might divert her, she had found peace.  She did not know the young woman walking along in the moonlit street below, yet she had seen herself within her and felt a wistful longing that had whispered into her being and appeared on the reflection in the mirror.

Father Frank opened the door to the small stone room.

“Sister, it is time.”

“Yes, Father.”

Clouds began to cover the evening sky as the melodies continued to whirl around inside her, filling her with the experiences of others.  She didn’t see the man approach until he startled her.

“Good evening.” His dark robe blended into the evening, only the white collar reflecting the waning moon’s light betrayed him.  

“Father! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” the young woman replied.

“Quite all right, child. We are in need of assistance at the monastery and I wonder if you might spare us a moment.”

Apprehension slithered inside, but she dismissed it. Where was her charity, after all.

“Certainly! How may I help?”

“Right this way.”

Autumn leaves turned to small stones as they turned the corner, down the cobblestone path to the archway. A flickering candle in a window high above both comforted and cautioned as she walked behind the robed man. She waited for words from a song to guide her.

Sister Jacinta opened the door.

“Welcome! Just in the nick of time.”

Jasmin Webb