Don't you have anything good to say, so-called LSP? you ask, grimly. Well yes, yes I do. After Mass on Thursdays I stop off at a small country supermarket to pick up provisions, David's in Whitney. What a friendly crowd and after a while you get to know the mostly elderly cashiers.
One of them, a wiry tough old lady, asked me at the checkout, "Feeling alright?" and I replied, "Still standing, by the grace of God." She smiled and said, "So am I! I've just met a man and he has money in his account and I won't have to do this job. My last husband was a demon. He was on nuke subs and we were married thirty years and he was a demon, he'd beat me. Now I've found a man who loves me, praise God."
Praise God, she meant it too, and her eyes sparkled there at that checkout at David's in Whitney. I smiled and praised God with her, what a faithful and good old lady, "Bless you." But would newfound love and recompense stick?
A month later, yesterday, I was at our rural haven's shopping mall, Walmart, and there she was, happy as could be, and she introduced me to the man who wasn't a demon. "This is..." and we shook hands, "You'll excuse me for looking like an unemployed fisherman but I am, in fact, a priest." He grinned in a lined face, brown with the weather and still strong, a countryman, out here in Texas, and off we went. Both of them light with happiness and that light lifted me up too.
Cheers,
LSP
