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Dreams Deferred

By June Foster

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Chapter One


"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will." Father Matthew Hall lifted his eyes to the crucifix above the altar. Jesus hanging on the cross—the symbol of his faith. "We praise You, we bless You, we adore You, we glorify You."
The words of adoration for the crucified Savior of the world slipped from his lips so naturally, he barely looked at the lectionary. He lifted his baritone voice, offering the mass in song, something he didn't usually do, but since today was Easter Sunday, he would. Easter,—the most significant date on the Christian calendar, was the perfect day to exalt God with the talent He'd given Matt.
He took a breath and opened his mouth again. "We give You thanks for your great glory, Lord God, heavenly King." If Matt sang a billion words at each mass, it wouldn't be sufficient to praise his Lord Jesus Christ, the mighty God Who'd created Heaven and Earth.
At the end of the gospel readings, Matt stepped to the podium and looked out at the parishioners. The homily he'd worked on last night would surely convey the joy of Christ's resurrection.
He scanned the congregation again. Some sat, eyes wide, as if soaking up every word of his twenty minute homily. In the back of the sanctuary, two women whispered to each other and another filed her nails.
That was okay. He couldn't expect his message to impact every heart, though he prayed it would. He'd sewed the seed, but the Holy Spirit would reap the harvest.
When he finished the sermon, he moved from the podium to the altar and picked up his lectionary. "Let's rise for the reading of the Creed." Uttering the proclamation of his faith out loud made the gospel even more real. "Let's read together."
The rumbling of people standing to their feet and the rustle of pages echoed through the sanctuary. "I believe in one God, the Father almighty…" Matt looked up from his book. "Maker of Heaven and Earth…"
In the second row to his right, a young woman, eyes on her missal, moved her lips, no doubt repeating the creed. Something about her enchanted him, luring his gaze to remain on her.
He wrenched his attention to the words in the book he held in his hand and cleared his throat. "Of all things visible and invisible."
Against his will, the image of the woman with light brown hair drew him once again, and no words came from his lips.
He gulped and stopped repeating the creed, and his face heated.
Like a lone soldier, one man near the middle aisle continued to speak, and the rest were silent. The two women in the back quit whispering and gawked at him, as if he were a creature from another universe.
Matt gave himself a mental kick in the pants, forcing his attention to the mass once again. He knew the words by heart but looked to his lectionary."I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God… "
His mind raced, searching for answers. He'd never been distracted by anyone in the year he'd served at St. Aloysius and not in his five years as a priest, especially not a woman. What was wrong with him? Priests weren't supposed to look at females in that way, but still his heart pounded.
If he didn't know better, he'd think her a beautiful angel who'd joined them at St. Aloysius today—a matter he'd take to the Lord later in the privacy of his quarters. He looked toward the congregation.
Lifting her eyes upward, the woman seemed to study the crucifix behind the altar.
Sweat rolled down his neck under his clerical collar. He carefully grasped the chalice to prepare the Eucharist. What would happen if he had to administer the Holy Communion to her? It seemed sacrilegious given his mental wanderings, but he had no choice since the head priest was attending a conference in El Paso. Even his friend, Father Andrew Pearson, was off today.
Matt held his breath as he flipped the pages to the prayer for Easter Sunday. The celebrants rose and stepped into the aisle then made their way to the altar.
"The Body of Christ."
Two teen girls.
"The Body of Christ."
An elderly couple, the whispering women, and the one with the nail file, a young man and his wife.
"The Body of Christ."
From the corner of his eye, he peeked at the woman. She remained seated when the rest of the people on her row stepped into the aisle. He filled his lungs with a heavy breath and slowly released it.
Finally, the last parishioner received the Holy Communion and returned to his place.
"May almighty God bless you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. The mass has ended. Go in peace."
Matt's words echoed throughout the sanctuary followed by the noisy chatter of conversation. He turned toward the door beside the altar instead of greeting anyone today. The sooner he could go to the Lord in prayer in his apartment, the better.
He hadn't perceived the lovely woman in the filmy green dress as one of the regular attendees but rather had viewed her in a way that came close to violating the vows of chastity he'd taken when he first accepted his position as a priest. He clenched his jaw until it ached. And if she was married? Even worse.

*****

Mary Louise Graham slipped her rosary from her purse and knelt, waiting for the others to leave the sanctuary. She fingered the smooth pink and white glass beads. Extra prayers never hurt anything.
During the homily she'd scribbled a few sentences on the church bulletin about the message, but she couldn't make sense of them now.
The priest left the altar and disappeared out the side door.
Mary Louise turned her head to the left then the right, taking in the strangers leaving their seats around her: a couple of teen boys, thumbs flying over cell phones, and a middle-aged woman biting her fingernails. Sitting up front today instead of her ordinary spot on the back row with her parents hadn't helped her attention span like she'd hoped.
What did she expect? The memories always assaulted her in church, muffling the priest's words. Joining her parents' church a year ago hadn't made any difference, either.
Mary Louise moved her lips faster as she rushed through the Hail Marys and Our Fathers. She exhaled a long sigh. Who was she kidding? If she said the rosary a thousand times today, it wouldn't remove the guilt. No way she'd could've taken Holy Communion with the heavy sin on her soul. It would make her wrongs even worse.
St Aloysius' majestic sanctuary that accommodated their large congregation, with the beautiful stained-glass windows depicting the Stations of the Cross, usually lifted her spirit, but not today. Mary Louise folded her hands and looked at the statue of Mary then flung the beads in her purse and rose. Mom and Dad expected her at their house for Easter lunch, and she didn't want to be late.
She slowly made her way to her car. Living with her parents until she was twenty-five had been ridiculous. Moving out, renting her own apartment, and establishing her little essential oil business was the best thing that happened last year. Besides, Mom had never missed an opportunity to remind her of the terrible sin she'd committed when she was sixteen.
She clicked the locks on her old Chevy. It wasn't much, but at least it got her places. She gritted her teeth as she sank down into the driver's seat. Once again, she'd face her parents' displeasure—one of the reasons that made it so hard to forgive herself.
How many acts of repentance would she have to perform for her sin? Would meeting with the priest who'd said mass today make any difference?

*****

In the rectory, Matt paused at the entrance to his apartment off the dining room. He reached for the door knob then turned. Call it an urge, but he retraced his steps then headed toward the parking area.
He crept down the pebbled path that led through the church grounds. He passed the sanctuary and drew closer. Only a handful of cars remained.
The edge of a pale green dress fluttered in the breeze. The woman wearing it sauntered toward an older model Chevy.
He blinked, and his pulse raced.
The sun caught her hair giving it a reddish sheen now. He stepped under the shelter of an elm, each limb sprouting bright green foliage.
"Hey, Father Matt."
Matt flinched and twisted toward the familiar voice behind him.
Andy, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, whistled some song Matt couldn't identify. "How did mass go today?"
No way would Matt let on about his romantic feelings. He turned toward the woman again who now got into her car. "What's that parishioner's name?" His words barged out before he could call them back.
Andy shaded his eyes with one hand. "Oh, her? She's Mary Louise Graham, daughter of Jess and Carolyn Graham. They're big financial supporters of the church from what I understand. I believe she's a middle school teacher."
Apparently, the woman was well known in the church, but he hadn't paid much attention to her before. Instead of his room, a jaunt around the grounds might clear his head. "I'm going for a walk. See you later."
"Right." Andy gave him a sideways glance, stared a few more seconds, and shrugged.

*****

Matt clasped his hands behind his back and strolled down the pebbled path. He loved the lush flower gardens already blooming with marigolds, light purple petunias, and yellow and white daisies reminding him of God's creation.
At the next bend in the path, his favorite retreat appeared—the little white chapel with windows along the entire back wall beyond the altar.
He stepped inside the miniature church with three rows of pews on either side of the aisle. The view behind the altar and the statue of St. Paul took his breath away—a dazzling blue lake surrounded by a forest of live oak.
Matt genuflected, made the sign of the cross, then sank down into the first pew to the right. He slid to his knees and gazed at Jesus hanging on the cross. The moment he'd waited for—to speak to the Lord about mass today. "Jesus, You sacrificed so much for me. My heart's desire is never to willfully sin against You. I place at the foot of the cross my distraction today."
He took a long, satisfying breath and glanced out the window above the altar. A white winged dove flew to its mate and landed in one of the oak trees. A family of geese made their way across the water. Families—a picture of God's plan for mankind. Outside, the new leaves fluttered in the breeze. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the air cooling the perspiration on his neck.
Matt clutched his hands tighter and rested them on top of the kneeling rail. He'd always believed that temptation wasn't a sin—acting upon it was. He'd merely become distracted during mass, right?
He rose to kneel at the altar. The silence in the tiny chapel wrapped him in peace, soothing his aching heart.
My son, I know the plans I have for you.
A chill worked its way down Matt's spine. The words were so clear, almost as if God had spoken aloud.
Matt rose from the little wooden altar rail and strolled out into the balmy spring day. Plans? Being a priest was God's plan for him, but did He have another purpose? Matt cast aside the notion and headed to his quarters to practice his violin for tonight's symphony rehearsal.

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