Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Communion & Holy Clothes

I sat on the hard, wooden pew in church (with the 11 other attendees), and realized it was the first Sunday of the month, which meant we´d be taking Communion. I immediately remembered my first Communion experience and the bitter taste of whatever represented Jesus´ blood. So, I dreaded the moment when it was time to drink. The assistant pastor passed down the outside of my row with a tray of juice glasses. Yes, juice glasses - filled a third of the way, equivalent to 10 or 11 communion cups. He wasn´t able to squeeze inside my row, so I took two glasses and passed them down. When I reached for one for myself, he had already moved on. I couldn´t believe my luck! Jodi was watching me from her pew on the other side of the church and thought I was trying to get out of drinking the nasty stuff. I caught her eye with a guilty look on my face. We both held in our giggles, and just when I thought I had escaped, the pastor appeared on the other side of the pew and noticed my hand was still empty. Naturally, I reached for a glass and braced myself for the taste. The pastor said a few words, then downed his glass. I watched his face as I chugged my ¨blood¨... he made a disgusted face, his lips contorted, then promptly went on with his sermon. I could have laughed out loud. I don´t know what I drank, but it was syrupy, bitter, dark-colored with a bit of fizz, and coated my throat. Yuck!
*******
There are always multitudes of clothes to fold at Missionaries of Charity. Jenna and I have been longing to hold a retirement party for many of them, since several have huge holes in them. Finally, one of the Sisters said ¨Please! If you find clothes that are holy, please throw them from the trash and put them on.¨ Jenna and I rejoiced at this news and spent the next 3 1/2 hours examining each article of clothing in the large wardrobe, discarding the ones with this criteria ¨hole that a hand could fit through, several holes, broken zipper, etc.¨ We were finding found so many gems from so many eras, that we started making up stories about the women who previously owned them.

Imagine: a grayish/blue silky dress with pleats near the shoulders, giant shoulder pads, and nautical, silver buttons. She had wavy, dark brown hair. Her husband owned a boat and named it after her. She wore a flowy scarf in her hair and owned a Cadillac. She never had children.

Imagine: a seafoam green sleeveless dress. She bought it for a cruise, accompanied with a wide-brimmed, floppy straw hat and white sandals. She loved it so much, she also wore it to summer BBQs and even when she gardened.

Imagine: a black skirt with pink sparkles. She wore it with black high heels and a sparkly pink top. She had big, curly hair which she made even bigger by back-combing it. She went out dancing, and when the dance was over, she and her friends drank some Coke at a 50´s diner where she repeatedly gave some hair flips, hoping to draw attention to her marvelous outfit.

The laughter was healing for me.

1 comment:

ryanmortinson said...

a couple days ago i was down by one of the many small streams in seoul... i'm fairly certain i spotted two spies trading secrets across from me... and then suddenly an anti-spy dog came out of nowhere and sniffed around them and then reported their presence to its commanding officer...

my mom said i should start trying to live each day and enjoy the now instead of worrying too much about the far future.

it's not easy to do... i'm going to try.

i thought i'd pass that bit of motherly advice on... sounds like you've figured it out. the joy of the moment.

grace and peace. do you think we'll ever have another HAC reunion? i hope so.