The Return.

A few days after Father Ignatius encountered the thugs in the park he had a visit at Parish House.

It was the young man lying on the ground who had been punched and kicked by the other three hooligans. He still had the scars on his face where he’d been injured and his left eye had turned a lovely shade of blue.

“May I have a word Sir?” he asked as he stood nervously at the door.

The priest led him to the downstairs waiting room and offered him a cup of tea.

“I see you’re still healing slowly,” he said soothingly, “have those people bothered you again?”

The young man shook his head.

“You come and tell me if they do …” continued the priest, “I know one of them well and I’ll soon put a stop to it. Who are the other two?”

The young man gave Father Ignatius the names of the other men who beat him up.

“What can I do to help you?” asked the priest gently.

“I have come to explain myself,” said the young man, “the other night at the park I had to run away quickly for a reason as I shall explain why …”

The priest nodded gently to encourage the man to continue.

“The four of us are friends … Gabbi and the others,” said the man, “at least I thought we were …

“We don’t have jobs … it’s difficult to find work these days … well, I’m OK now, as I’ll explain …

“You see Sir … why did Gabbi call you Father the other day, by the way?”

“It’s because I’m a priest” said Father Ignatius, “it’s customary to call a priest Father!”

“I see …” said the man, “well … the four of us a few days ago … last week it was. Well we mugged a man in town by the cinema.

“It was Tuesday night and we stopped this man and we asked him for his wallet. He gave it to Gabbi and the three of them ran away. As I was leaving I noticed he was wearing a gold watch … so I asked him for it. He gave it to me and I ran away also.

“Afterwards the three of them divided the money between them and gave me nothing.

“They said I didn’t deserve anything because I had not agreed to the mugging. I said it was wrong to rob people.

“They then saw me with the watch and realized I’d taken it from the man. They wanted that too but I ran away.

“A few days later they met me in the park and beat me up … that’s when you found me with your dog.

"I had to run away when you helped me because I was worried they'd go and beat my sister!”

“I see …” said the priest frowning, “and what happened to the watch?”

“I still have it here … I was going to sell it because I need the money for my sister. She has no husband you see … and she has a small baby girl which she has to feed. I was going to give her the money.”

The priest looked at the gold watch in his hand and realized that it was quite valuable.

“How much were you intending to sell it for?” he asked.

“About £20 …” said the man.

“I’ll buy it from you for this sum on one condition,” said Father Ignatius, “I want you to promise that you will never ever mug or steal from anyone again. Is that understood?”

The young man nodded.

“If you ever get in trouble again you’re no longer under my protection. The police will no doubt find you and you’ll end up in prison.”

“Yes Sir … Father. You see … I now have a job cleaning cars at the garage in town. I can give some money to my sister …”

The priest gave the young man £20 and let him go. He then picked up the phone and called the police.

An hour later Detective Inspector Lorne called on the priest.

“On Tuesday of last week there was a mugging in town by the cinema and a wallet and watch were taken,” said Father Ignatius.

“Good Heavens, Father …” said the Inspector, “that’s very accurate. Don’t tell me it was you who did it! I know funds are short in your church but I never expected the likes of you to turn to robbing people!”

He then laughed heartily as he watched the priest’s face.

“Seriously though, Father …” he continued, “it’s one of the cases I’m investigating. Do you have some information for me?”

“Better than that …” said the priest, “I have the watch in question … here it is.”

The detective looked at the watch and whistled quietly under his breath. “That’s a very expensive time-piece,” he said, “Care to tell me how it came in your possession?”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Vince.” replied Father Ignatius.

“I thought not Father … But you can’t blame me for trying. I’d better give you a receipt for this then we’ll return it to its owner. You don’t happen to have the wallet too?”

“No, sorry! Was much taken?”

“Only £10. The victim was more interested in the watch. He said it had sentimental value … For such a solid gold time-piece I’d have sentimental value too I tell you, Father. Some people have more money than they’ll ever need whilst others around here are starving under our very noses.”

The policeman thanked the priest and went away happily.

Father Ignatius never saw the young man who’d been beaten up ever again.

Park Encounter.

It was a crisp autumn evening when Father Ignatius took his dog Canis for a walk in the park. As he passed the pond a few ducks followed him quacking in the hope that he’d feed them a few pieces of bread. The dog stopped for a few seconds, looked at them as if to say “Go away … we’re busy” then pulled at the lead once again beckoning the priest to move on.

The kind priest moved on slowly through the empty park, his thoughts and prayers in mind. He felt particularly sad at the poverty and desolation around him. He remembered the Biblical story of seven years of plenty and seven years of drought and wondered whether there was a Joseph amongst the nation’s leaders and politicians to guide the country through the economic crisis it was in.

Almost every one of his parishioners had a story to tell about job losses, business closures, bankruptcies and house repossessions. He recalled the Parish Council treasurer’s voice as he said in his Welsh accent, “Sorry to tell you Father … but the Sunday collection is down yet again … for the seventh week running …”

Church funds were low and there was little prospect of financial help from the Bishop. Yet work needed to be done. Some of the brick work in the bell tower was getting loose and needed repair, the electric wiring in the Parish house required up-grading, his car was beginning to show its age … but more important, the number of parishioners who needed urgent financial help was increasing. He knew of families where the children went to bed hungry because of lack of food … and that’s more vital than any work the church needed.

It was getting rather dark when he was awakened from his reveries by the sound of a scuffle in the bushes. The dog growled once or twice but the priest managed to keep him quiet.

He approached the bushes cautiously and discovered three men with their backs to him standing over a fourth man lying on the ground. Obviously the result of an unfair fight

“What’s going on here?” he asked in a quiet yet firm voice.

This startled the three men who turned round suddenly to face him. They were young, early twenties at the most, and looked thuggish and menacing. Not the sort of people you’d like to meet alone in the dark in the middle of a park. Which was precisely the situation Father Ignatius found himself in!

One of the thugs said “What’s it to do with you old man? Walk away and keep your mutt under control or else …”

Father Ignatius pulled back on the dog’s lead as Canis stood there baring his teeth. He looked at the man standing in the middle straight in the eye and said, “You’re Gabbi aren’t you? Named after the Angel Gabriel as I recall; pity you didn’t inherit some of the Angel’s good character!”

The young man who’d spoken previously jumped in again, “Do you know this geezer Gabbi? That’s all we need, someone to identify us!” He moved a few steps forward but Gabbi, who seemed to be the leader of the group, pulled him back.

“Hello Father …” said Gabbi sheepishly.

“Father?” said the third young man, “is this fellow your old dad?”

“Shut it!” commanded Gabbi.

A second or so later the priest spoke again, still in his quiet yet assured voice.

“Tell your friends, Gabbi,” he said, “never to engage someone they do not know. For all they know I might be a martial arts expert and despite my age I may well take the three of you on. Ask them if they want to try!”

None of the youngsters spoke.

“Now then …” continued the priest, “I want you to walk away quietly and go to your homes.

“Oh … and one more thing! Don’t you ever touch one hair from this man’s head. He is under my protection now … as you people might say. If any harm ever comes to him I’ll come after you and make you regret it for the rest of your lives. Understood?”

“Yes Father …” said Gabbi and the three men walked away hurriedly.

The priest bent down to check on the fourth man who had been kicked a few times in the ribs. He was somewhat shaken but not badly hurt. He did not wish to give his name, thanked the priest and then ran away.

Father Ignatius got up and made his way back home with his dog.

The Angel Gabriel may not have been in the park that evening, but Father Ignatius’ Angel was sure there ready to protect him if needs be!

Lost?

Father Ignatius was at the pulpit reading from the Bible:

“Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst. But I told you that although you have seen me, you do not believe. Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and I will not reject anyone who comes to me, because I came down from Heaven not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me. And this is the will of the one who sent me, that I should not lose anything of what He gave me, but that I should raise it on the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in Him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day.’ "

The priest waited until the congregation sat down and then said:

“There’s an important message here from John’s Gospel at Chapter 6 verses 37 onwards.

“Jesus says that the will of God is that He, Jesus, should not lose anything, or anyone, that was given to Him. What does this mean? Are we all destined for Heaven and none of us should be lost?

“Let me tell you something which happened to me lately.

“Monsignor Thomas at Bishop’s House celebrated his 30th Anniversary as a priest recently. The Bishop held a party which I attended and I bought the Monsignor a lovely antique clock as a gift.

“Unfortunately, by the time I got home the clock stopped working. I took it to a shop and they agreed to fix it for £20.

“A few days later when I got back for the clock I was told it was lost. It was not anywhere to be found. The shop attendant explained that the clock had indeed been fixed yet somehow it got lost during refurbishment of the premises. He offered me compensation which I reluctantly accepted; but it was a small recompense for the lost valuable antique.”

The priest stopped for a while as he usually did during his sermons; then he continued.

“A few days later I received a letter saying the clock was ready for collection. You can imagine my delight at finding this precious antique once again.

“I of course offered to return the money the shop gave me as compensation but the attendant refused to accept it. He said it was Company policy never to lose an item. The clock was never lost; he told me emphatically, it was just temporarily misplaced.

“Not lost; but temporarily misplaced.

“And since the clock was never lost the shop attendant could not take back any money paid in compensation. It was mine to keep and use as a donation from the shop.”

The priest stopped again for a while.

“This set me thinking dear friends …” he continued.

“God created us body and soul. We know that the body eventually turns to dust yet the soul lives on.

“It is given to each one of us for safe-keeping so that we may return it to God as He intended and as Jesus said.

“But through our sins we manage to lose it time and again. A lost soul destined for another destination than the one intended … all because of our sin.

“God, in all His love and mercy sent Jesus to pay the price of restoring our soul. He has made us whole again. And the price was not a mere £20 which I paid to repair the clock. Jesus paid the price with His own life when He was so cruelly and horribly nailed to the Cross.

“That is a high price indeed my friends …

“The Son of God paid the price for our soul to be restored once again; just like that clock of mine.

“And it is our job … our duty and our great responsibility not to lose or misplace our soul ever again.

“Whether it is temporarily misplaced in Purgatory or forever misplaced in hell … this is something which each one of us will have to account for to God when it is our turn to meet Him face to face.

“What have you done with the soul I gave you for safe-keeping? He will ask us.

“I hope we’ll be ready to say ‘Here I am Lord, it is I returning to you. Not lost, nor misplaced.’ ”

The Clock.

It was Monsignor Thomas’ 30th Anniversary as a priest and the Bishop had arranged a Celebratory Reunion at Bishop’s House.

Father Ignatius had been invited and he was very eager to attend since he had not seen Monsignor Thomas for quite sometime. They knew each other well and had trained together as young priests all those many years ago.

A few weeks before the Reunion Father Ignatius was in the big city for business. He passed by an antiques shop and saw a lovely old wooden mantelpiece clock. It was made of very dark ebony wood with a clock face made of pale yellowish ivory encrusted with large gold numerals and hands. It wasn’t too big, or too small. Just the right size to put on a mantelpiece, a bookshelf or on a desk! In fact it was the perfect present for Monsignor Thomas. He would be so pleased to have that in his office, thought Father Ignatius.

He entered the shop and to his surprise, despite the antique's age and quality it was priced just right. So he bought it and was very pleased with himself.

When he arrived back at his Parish that evening Father Ignatius discovered to his great chagrin that the clock did not work. It was OK in the shop, so something must have happened during transit from the city.

The next day he took the clock to the local horologist … at least that’s what it said on the shop window. “James Merry-Time Horologist”

The young attendant at the shop, dressed very smartly in a three-piece suit, welcomed the priest and announced proudly in an impeccable upper-class English accent that the Company had been in business for 150 years and now had 27 branches nationwide.

“We are proud to serve time after time! That’s our Company motto Sir!” he concluded with a smile.

He then looked at the clock carefully and advised Father Ignatius that it was a unique and very valuable time-piece. The mechanism had been slightly damaged during the journey from the city but it could easily be fixed for £20.

The priest readily agreed to this and left the clock in the shop intending to collect it when it was fixed.

A week later he returned and was greeted by the same shop attendant.

Ashen faced the attendant announced that the clock was nowhere to be found. They looked everywhere for it but could not find it. It wasn’t in the storeroom, nor the workshop, and not in the safe either, where valuable pieces are always kept for safe-keeping.

The young attendant lamented the disappearance of the clock … “Tempus Fugit” he said with a wry smile which the priest did not appreciate.

“It was such a lovely time-piece too,” he said soothingly, “perfect movement and spring action … reminiscent of the Georgian period I would say, probably earlier … solid gold numerals and hands set against an ivory clock face all encased in an ebony framework …Very unusual combination of materials, if I may say so Sir!”

And so he went on describing the missing clock as if he was at an auction enticing as many buyers as possible to bid highly for it.

All this did not help the priest one bit.

“What do you propose doing about it?” he asked in desperation.

“Well Sir …” said the attendant, “we could offer you a refund if you have proof of purchase or a valuation certificate or something that would ascertain its true value!”

As it happened, the priest still had the receipt from the city shop where he bought the clock. It cost exactly £100.

“That is indeed a valuable clock Sir.” said the attendant looking at the receipt, “I would have valued it at that sum if not a little higher … but then it should be … it is unique after all. They don’t make such lovely clocks like this anymore you know. Beautiful wooden craftsmanship is very difficult to find these days! And solid gold numerals and hands as I recall.”

The priest felt really low at having lost such a valuable item; especially when he heard it described so eloquently by someone who knew his trade very well.

The man continued in the same polite and considered voice.

“Our establishment deeply apologizes for the loss you have suffered Sir, and we offer you the sum of £80 in full recompense for our temporary drop in our high standard of service.”

Father Ignatius was totally perplexed at the amount offered in compensation.

“Why are you offering just £80?” he asked, “you can see from the receipt I paid £100 for the clock only a few days ago.”

“That is indeed correct Sir,” said the shop attendant, “but we have to deduct £20 for fixing the clock as you requested.”

Father Ignatius was astounded at what he’d just heard.

“But …” he paused for a while, “you lost the clock. A clock costing me £100 to purchase! You can’t deduct £20 because you fixed it since I do not have the clock to take with me.”

“Oh indeed we can …” continued the attendant politely, “the work was done at our workshop Sir. I inspected the clock myself after it was fixed and it passed our high standards of quality control. It was working perfectly. Surely you can’t expect us not to be paid for work carried out? That would hardly be fair, would you not say?”

There was no point in arguing further. The attendant was adamant that only £80 would be offered in compensation because the clock which was not working properly beforehand had indeed now been fixed. Father Ignatius took the amount offered and went away more puzzled than deflated.

It seems that there must be in Heaven a Patron Saint of Horology and all things relating to clocks.

Because a few days later Father Ignatius received a letter from the shop stating that the clock was ready for collection.

He rushed to the shop with a heart overflowing with joy and met the very same young attendant … and there, ready for collection, was the valuable clock working perfectly.

“Oh you found it … thank you so much!” said the priest smiling broadly.

“Indeed Sir,” said the attendant, “it was not so much lost than just temporarily misplaced due to refurbishment of our premises. We pride ourselves in this establishment never to lose our patrons property Sir.”

“That’s nice … now I’d better give you your £80 back.”

“What for Sir?” enquired the young man rather puzzled.

“You know … the £80 compensation you gave me when the clock was lost!”

“That will not be necessary Sir. As I’ve explained, the clock was never lost. It was temporarily misplaced. It was here all the time.”

“I’m glad about that … but you must see that you’re down on the deal, as they say. You fixed the clock for me, it is now found, and you gave me £80.”

“I do understand Sir,” said the man in his impeccable English, “I have checked with our Head Office and they explained that as the clock was never lost we were wrong to give you £80 compensation. That transaction never took place as far as we’re concerned.”

“That’s very generous,” replied Father Ignatius with a smile, “but tell me … what would have happened if the clock had not been found?”

“That is an impossibility as far as we’re concerned Sir. In our 150 years’ history no item has ever been lost. Very rarely, as indeed it did occur on this occasion, an item is misplaced and eventually found. Misplaced Sir, never lost!”

Father Ignatius was very pleased at what he’d heard and grateful for the generosity of this organization. He left the shop with his treasured time-piece restored to good working order and £80 in his pocket put to good use in helping his poor parishioners.

And it made a good story to relate at Monsignor Thomas’ Celebratory Reunion as well as the subject of the sermon on Sunday.

“A soul is never lost,” he thought to himself, “just temporarily misplaced!”

No dentures.

In a poor and desolate town such as where Father Ignatius was stationed it was evident that he would meet a lot of hardship amongst his parishioners, especially in difficult economic conditions where jobs were scarce and business closures rife.

One day a young man came to him complaining that he couldn’t get a good job and he felt a bit down because of lack of prospects at the factory where he did menial tasks.

Of course, the priest sympathized with him. It is good to see someone with ambitions wishing to better himself and get on in life. Yet, put in its true perspective, there were many others with no jobs at all and living literally in poverty.

Father Ignatius wished to convey this message to the young man, but he had to do it gently and without being critical of someone hoping to improve a bad circumstance.

He sat down on his chair behind his desk and looked at the young man in the face for a second or two and then asked:

“Have you got all your own teeth?”

The young man was taken aback at this unexpected and somewhat irrelevant question.

“Ehm … yes …” he mumbled.

“All your teeth hein?” repeated the priest, “no false teeth or dentures?”

“Yes …” said the man.

“That’s good … Just like me” said Father Ignatius pensively, “I have all my own teeth. No false ones. I’ve been lucky that way!”

After a few moments of silence the young man asked, “What has that to do with what we were talking about Father?”

“Oh … I was just thinking …” remarked Father Ignatius, “there’s plenty of talk about grinding and gnashing of teeth in the Bible.

“I wondered what would happen to those people with no teeth. Would they get given dentures do you think?”

The young man was now more puzzled than ever and thought the priest was perhaps getting a little senile.

Father Ignatius smiled and asked “Are you in good health?”

“Yes I am …” said the man emphatically.

“In good health … and doing a menial job at the factory! It’s good to want to improve yourself. You live in a rented apartment do you not?”

“Yes I do … not far from the church!” said the man.

“Oh yes … I forgot,” said the priest, “and you go regularly to church too. That’s good. And you help with the Youth Club we run here. That’s very commendable you know.”

The young man smiled.

“Let’s try to recap,” said Father Ignatius gently, “you’re young, fit and healthy too, you live in an apartment nearby, work at the factory on the East side of town, doing menial jobs as you say … You go to church … A good Catholic lad I suppose … I also know you have a red bicycle. I’ve seen you cycle to church. And you help with our youth work … And to top it all you have all your own teeth … mustn’t forget the teeth!”

The young man smiled again as he understood what the priest was saying.

“You see …” continued Father Ignatius, “life is very hard for many people these days. And I don’t decry your wish to do better for yourself. That’s very laudable.

“But when we pray to God, let us thank Him for what we have rather than bemoan what we haven’t!

“He knows our situation and He’ll certainly take care of us.”

The young man went away much wiser than he came and very grateful for his lot.

Yellow Helmet.

Father Ignatius was out driving in his car when he stopped at a red traffic light at the road crossing. He waited there for a minute or two until the lights changed to green when suddenly there was this almighty bang at the back of his car.

Another motorist had come at speed from behind and failed to brake hitting the priest’s car so hard that it pushed him forward into the path of oncoming traffic at the street intersection. The priest felt himself thrown violently forward when his car was hit from behind; and then he was hit again just as violently when a bus hit him on the side as his vehicle moved forward onto the traffic. The sideways hit was so hard that the priest’s car swung round almost back the way it was coming.

Father Ignatius must have lost consciousness for a few moments because the next thing he heard was the sound of sirens and blue and red lights flashing everywhere.

He opened his eyes slowly and felt the warm trickle of blood down his face. He tried to move but he felt trapped in what now was a crushed metal box around him. He was somewhat dazed and in pain all over. His thoughts turned to panic when he considered the possibility of the car exploding into fire.

He looked to his side and saw a huge man in a bright yellow helmet. The man managed to open the car door window slightly and said:

“Please sir, don’t move … we’ll have you out in no time. I am Fireman Derek Larcing … my colleagues will help you straightaway …”

Father Ignatius must have mumbled something incoherent because the fireman continued,

“I didn’t quite understand that Sir … eh … I notice you’re wearing a white collar Sir … are you a priest?”

“Yes …” said Father Ignatius.

“What is your name Sir?” asked the fireman.

“Ignatius …”

“That’s good Ignatius … now don’t talk and tire yourself. I’d like you please to try to move your feet and your toes … can you do that for me?”

The priest moved his feet and toes and then nodded.

“That’s a good sign Ignatius. Can you move your arms and hands?” The priest nodded again.

“OK … I’ll hand you this piece of cloth through the window, please just hold it on your head wound. It is sterilized and will soak the blood. Just hold it still … don’t wipe … just keep it there for a moment or two …” said the fireman soothingly.

“You’re obviously in great discomfort Sir, in such a confined space. The vehicle’s bodywork has collapsed around you, but all signs are that you don’t have any broken bones …”

“I know how sardines feel like …” said the priest forcing a smile.

“That’s good Sir, a sense of humor helps in moments like these … my colleagues have all the cutting equipment ready and we’ll soon have you out. It will be noisy for a while whilst they cut through the bodywork … but we’ll soon have you out.”

Fireman Larcing moved to the other side of the car whilst his colleagues started cutting open the bodywork. Moments later the priest was out of the wreckage and able to stand on his own feet. A couple of ambulance men moved forward and asked him to lie on a stretcher. Before he could protest that he was OK to go home the priest had been carried into a waiting ambulance and driven at speed to hospital.

On arrival at the hospital Father Ignatius was surrounded by doctors and nurses. They cleaned his head wound which had bled profusely and took various X Rays to ensure there were no broken bones or internal injuries.

As he lay in his hospital bed half-dazed by the experience he noticed Father Donald and Mrs Davenport, the housekeeper, sitting beside him. Someone had contacted them soon after the accident.

Before Father Ignatius could say anything a doctor came in.

“Well Father …” said the doctor, “I’m not a believer personally … but it seems to me that your God must have been with you in that accident.

“Apart from the deep cut above your eye … which missed your eye by millimeters … you seem to be perfectly OK. There are no broken bones or fractures or internal injuries whatsoever … A few bruises which will soon heal … and maybe a scar will remain on your forehead.

“To be honest Father … my colleagues and I are surprised you’re alive. The police and fire brigade cannot understand how you got out of that wreckage in one piece.

“It’s as if someone was there with you in the car holding you tightly in His arms and shielding you with His body.”

Father Ignatius said nothing, whilst Father Donald made the Sign of the Cross.

“Was anyone else hurt?” asked Father Ignatius eventually.

“No … no one. The car which hit you from behind was damaged as was the bus which hit you from the side. But no one was hurt. Police say witnesses saw your car spin right round like a top when it was hit on the side.

“We’ll keep you here for a day or so for observations,” continued the doctor, “just a precaution you understand … we doctors like to make sure …”

A week later Father Ignatius had a visitor in church. It was a tall handsome man in jeans and T shirt.

“I am Fireman Derek Larcing … Father.” he said quietly.

“Oh do come in …” the priest invited him in the Parish House, “I didn’t recognize you without your bright yellow helmet!”

Moments later, as they were enjoying a nice cup of tea and biscuits the fireman said, “Sir … I have something to tell you.

“I am not a religious man … somehow, I don’t believe in anything. Religion was never mentioned in our house or at school …

“The thing is Sir … a few days before your accident I had a dream … nothing specific, I can’t even remember it … but I remember seeing a man in my dreams with a white collar … just as you’re wearing.

“It happened twice … a few days later I saw the same man in my dream … I can’t even make out his face … but I remember the white collar well.

“I mentioned it to my wife and we thought nothing of it. We just laughed it off. But since your accident my wife asked me to come and see you and tell you about it.”

“Thank you for doing so.” said Father Ignatius gently, “I cannot explain it nor interpret it … dreams do feature often in Christian teachings and there are several instances recorded in the Bible. Whether your dreams are of any significance I cannot tell … but I sure welcome you being there and helping me when I was in that wreckage.”

The fireman smiled and said.

“The thing is Sir … my wife and I discussed this incident … especially you coming out of the car alive and in one piece … I’ve seen many accidents in my time but none so bad with such an outcome …

“My wife and I think we should come to your church … is that allowed? We’re not Christian or anything you see …”

“Everyone is allowed in God’s Church” said the priest, “it is His and not mine.

“You’re welcome on Sunday … take it one step at a time and perhaps you’d wish to join our Adult Catechism Classes too when you’re ready … just come along and see how it goes!”

… And that’s what happened as a result of Father Ignatius’ accident.

Miracles?

Sebastian was eight years old. He had been ill most of his young life having been in hospital several times for tests and operations and even more tests.

He spent most of his time in a wheelchair and needed constant attention from his parents and his two older sisters.

Father Ignatius knew the family well and visited them about once a week. They were rather poor, not unusual in this miserable desolate town with high unemployment and business closures.

The kindly priest often gave them some money to help supplement the family budget; although he pretended it was to pay his share of the evening meals he sometimes shared with them.

They usually prayed the Rosary as a family before their meals with the priest; and Sebastian’s mother would always dream that one day she’d be able to save enough money to take Sebastian to Lourdes so that Our Lady would heal him.

Her husband, John was more skeptical and felt somehow that his son was destined do be ill. Besides, there was no chance that they’d ever have any money anyway … so what’s the use of dreaming.

One summer the St Vincent de Paul Group in church organized a coach tour to Lourdes. They would travel South to the coast and take the ferry across to France.

Father Ignatius managed to find enough funds to take with them Sebastian, his parents and his sisters.

The coach was full to capacity and Father Ignatius had led prayers that Our Lady would listen to all intentions and bring them to Jesus our Healer of body and soul.

The tour was very successful. Sebastian had seemed more vibrant and lively than at any time before. He certainly enjoyed the many visits to Lourdes and the surrounding places to visit; and the whole family were greatly enriched by the kindness, friendship and fellowship of everyone on that coach.

Some may think that there was no miracle on that coach or for Sebastian and his family at Lourdes.

But they would be wrong.

That trip to visit the Holy Shrine strengthened Sebastian’s father’s Faith. He learnt that there is hope in dreaming. The family did go to Lourdes and it did benefit Sebastian and his sisters no end.

Sebastian’s mother was greatly enriched by the journey and the time spent praying to Our Lady. As did her two daughters who felt that much closer to their younger brother in a wheelchair.

Sebastian’s Father made a new acquaintance on the coach trip with the manager at a local factory. He managed to get a job at the factory and now no longer relies on donations from Father Ignatius to feed his family.

Sebastian’s mother also found a job working part-time three days a week at the local bakery. All because she happened to sit next to the church organist on the coach and discovered in conversation that she works at the bakery Personnel Department.

Somehow, purely by accident, they met a specialist doctor staying at the same hostel in France as the coach travelers. Father Ignatius had a few gentle words with him and Sebastian is scheduled to travel to a London hospital for further tests, and hopefully further treatment to help him live a better more comfortable life.

No … there was no miracle at Lourdes for those travelers from St Vincent Church. There were several.

Moving mountains.

Father Ignatius waited for a few seconds after reading the Gospel in church on Sunday.

“Let us remind ourselves of what Mary read in the second reading today,” he said, “To have Faith is to be sure of the things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see.

“There are times in life when events hit us from nowhere and our Faith takes a real knock. Bad health maybe, or loss of a job or something else and we say … why is this happening to me? I’m a good person. I go to church regularly and love God. Why does He do that to me?

“But St Paul, who is said to have written this letter to the Hebrews, is quite clear in what he says … to have Faith is to be sure and certain of what we hope for and what we cannot see.

“And he had good reason to lose Faith … he was not in good health, he’d been arrested, beaten and imprisoned many times for preaching about Jesus, he was shipwrecked and bitten by a snake. He could have said at any time … enough of this … I might as well give up and go back to making tents … which was of course his trade.

“But he didn’t give up. His Faith remained strong. He continued preaching despite all adversities.”

Father Ignatius stopped for a while then continued.

“Jesus said that if we have Faith as small as a mustard seed we can say to a mountain move and it will move … or to a mulberry tree uproot yourself and plant yourself in the sea and it will do it.

“Can you imagine that? We don’t have any mountains near us … but there’s Ben Nevis in Scotland and Mount Snowden in Wales. Can you imagine standing there at the foot of Ben Nevis and saying … hey you Ben … I command you to move over there!

“And to have so much Faith in what you have said that you know for certain it will happen? You wouldn’t be frightened of making a fool of yourself in front of everyone else! You’d shout your command out loud to the mountain knowing full well that it will obey you.”

He paused again for a while and took something out of his pocket.

“I have here a mustard seed …” he said raising his hand, “can you see it?

“Of course not … it’s so small that I can hardly see it myself …

“Suddenly, this tiny mustard seed has never seemed so big … when it comes to asking a mountain to move.”

He stopped again and put the seed back in his pocket.

“But Jesus was not exaggerating when He taught us to have Faith.

“On His way to Capernaum Christ met a Roman Centurion whose servant was very ill. He asked Our Lord to help the servant, and when Jesus made His way towards the house the Centurion said ‘Lord, I do not deserve that you come under my roof. But just say the word and my servant will be healed’

“Can you imagine the Faith of that Centurion? A Roman officer who was no doubt tasked to keep the peace and had probably persecuted Christ’s followers in his time and kept them under control … Yet, this very man had so much Faith in Jesus that he knew that one word from Him and the servant would be healed.

“Can you do that I wonder? Can you have so much Faith in God that you know for certain that He will see you through whatever crisis you are facing? Or does your Faith crumble when adversity strikes?”

He stopped yet again to punctuate his sermon and to gauge the discomfort of the congregation.

“My dear friends …” he continued, “I am no Saint …

“There are times when my Faith falters too … I am as weak as any of you and at times that mustard seed I carry is as large as Ben Nevis itself.

“God knows that … He knows the amount of Faith we have in Him and how it varies in the good and the bad times …

“And yet He loves us all the same.

“A man came to Jesus once and asked Him to heal his son ‘if you possibly can …’

“Note the hesitancy in the man’s request. He was not as certain as the Centurion … he said ‘help us if you possibly can …’

“Jesus replied, ‘If you can? Everything is possible for he who has Faith.’

“To which the man replied, ‘I do have Faith, but not enough. Help me to have more!’

“Jesus took pity on him yet admired his honesty and healed his son.

“We too dear friends … should never be afraid or ashamed when our Faith is weak to say to God in all honesty.

“I believe Lord; help my unbelief”.

Channel of Peace.

It was Friday evening and as usual Sister Martha had called at the Parish House on her way home to the Convent. She sat in the large living room with Father Ignatius enjoying a lovely cup of tea and ginger biscuits whilst watching the news on TV.

Some person or other had been nominated for a Peace Prize because of his work around the world.

“What a great honour,” said Sister Martha, “to be nominated for having tried to establish a little peace in this troubled world.”

“Yes indeed,” replied the priest picking up another ginger biscuit.

“Reminds me of the Prayer of St Francis of Assisi … Make me a channel of your peace,” continued the nun, “it must be wonderful to have spent one’s life furthering the cause of peace. It should bring a smile to God’s face” she concluded chortling silently.

“There isn’t much to make God smile nowadays,” said Father Ignatius, “so someone like this person doing his bit for peace should bring a great smile in Heaven!”

“This makes me wonder …” she said, “does someone have to be a Christian to be a channel of God’s peace? What if someone has no faith at all, a total un-believer? And he works hard for peace … is he God’s channel or not? What do you think Ignatius?”

The priest put his cup of tea down and pondered for a minute or so whilst she switched off the TV.

“I believe our God wishes Peace on this earth,” said Father Ignatius softly, “Christ used to welcome people with the words ‘Peace be with you’,

“But I don’t think that it is a condition for God to use us as a channel of His peace that we should have Faith.

“God can and will use anyone in the right circumstances to do His will on earth and to further His Kingdom. If someone with no Faith at all is in the right place and at the right time then I believe God will use him. That person with no Faith may not even know that he is guided by God, yet he will be a channel of God’s peace all the same.

“Remember Moses was hesitant at first, when approached by God, citing his stammer as an impediment to the task ahead. But God chose him anyway.

“Paul had no Faith whatsoever. He was a declared enemy of God; in fact he fought God by killing the followers of Jesus. If ever there was a man chosen to further God’s Kingdom on earth Paul was such a man. But look where he started from … an un-believer with no Faith.

“No Martha, I don’t think one needs to be a Christian to be a channel of God’s peace.

“To be a channel for God’s use we need to be willing to listen to Him, to obey Him and to trust Him in every respect.”

God’s Shepherd.

Father Ignatius was a shepherd although he had never been anywhere near sheep; even though his father had been a farmer.

No … Father Ignatius was a shepherd of human sheep. And that is not meant as a description of his congregation or their collective mental ability.

It was a responsibility which the kindly priest took upon himself from that day the Good Lord tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to take on his vocation. Father Ignatius saw his role in life to guide and lead as many that are put in his care as possible into the Kingdom of Heaven.

And in doing so he had to teach with kindness but with firmness too for it was not up to him to change the Word of God or to re-interpret it in such a way as to make it more palatable to his parishioners.

Father Ignatius knew his sheep by name and he also had the gift, or ability, to associate with each one of them a story or some fact or other about their lives. For example when greeting the parishioners after Mass on Sunday he would say “Hello Guy … how are the children settling in at school …” or “Good morning Mrs Perkins … are you feeling a little better after the operation?” And so on. This made them feel special which of course they were to him … just as a shepherd knows his sheep whether they are young lambs or long in the tooth mutton on legs.

The priest noted one Sunday that a young man looked a little morose and somehow out of sorts and this led him to recall that he hadn’t seen him take Communion for a while. He stopped him on the way out of church and asked him to wait a while to have a word.

When everyone had gone Father Ignatius and Roger went to the Sacristy.

“How are you keeping Roger?” asked the priest, “you don’t look too happy to me … is anything wrong?”

Roger did not need much prompting. Whatever had been eating him had been there for far too long to remain hidden and under control.

“There’s nothing to be happy about …” he replied, “I have lost my job and there’s little prospect of employment … as a result Sue and I have had to postpone our wedding … she hardly earns enough at the bakery … and all our plans to marry in the summer have gone out of kilter as it were …” and then he laughed bitterly and added “I’ve prayed of course Father … but I think God is too busy with someone else to bother about us …”

Father Ignatius said nothing for a moment and then asked, “Would you say a short prayer with me please Roger?”

The young man nodded and the priest started praying as Roger repeated …

“Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done …

“OK … let’s hold it there,” said the priest, “what’s the last thing we said?”

Roger hesitated and then mumbled “Thy will be done …”

“Precisely …” said the priest quietly and gently, “do you know Roger … I’ve often struggled with these four words … and me being a priest too …

“Thy will be done …

“We say these words time and again when we recite the Lord’s Prayer or the Rosary but do we really mean them?

“How far are we to accept our Lord’s will without question and without protest I wonder?

“Would we just accept the odd discomfort and setback if it is God’s will and somehow, without our knowledge or understanding, it serves His purpose? Maybe our problem and the way we deal with it serves as an example to others and brings someone closer to God. Would we accept His will in those circumstances?

“What if it is more than just a slight discomfort? What if His will leads us to pain or hardship? What then … do we accept it like Job did? Do we go on accepting it all the way onto death and torture like St Peter did and the Christian martyrs over the years?

“At what point do we say to God … Hey I said Thy will be done … but this is taking it too far!”

Roger smiled. The priest continued.

“We ought to be very careful when we make that particular promise in the Lord’s Prayer.”

Father Ignatius stopped for a while, as he often does in conversation to punctuate what he had just said, and to let the point sink in. He then smiled at Roger and said.

“The Lord knows what happens to us every moment of our lives Roger … not a hair should fall from our heads without His knowledge … and of course without His will and agreement …

“So when something happens to us … like losing a job … we should remember that He is still in control and somehow it serves His purpose.

“I am not saying it is easy … far from it. Our first human instinct is to rebel, get angry and complain or whine about our situation … It’s human nature to do so … But let’s try some non-human nature for a change … let’s with the aid of the Holy Spirit try superhuman nature to deal with the situation.

“I’m not criticizing you Roger … for I’ve had these difficulties myself you see …

“When the words ‘Thy will be done’ get to mean ‘as long as it is what I want’ then we’re adding a condition which was not there nor meant by Our Lord when He taught us to pray.”

Father Ignatius stopped for a while and then went on.

“It is sometimes difficult to accept or even understand the Lord’s will …

“We wonder why certain things happen to us … we being good and prayerful and attending Mass regularly and so on … why does He let it happen to us …

“The thing is Roger, the Lord knows what is happening to us and He will not let us be tested or be pushed beyond our capabilities …

“I have known people who have undergone great hardship in their lives Roger and they never lost their Faith. They accepted His will without question and were an example to the rest of us.

“Years ago I knew a young lady in this Parish, about your age and newly married. She became very ill with no prospects of getting better.

“I remember praying with her by her bedside in hospital and she said to me, ‘Cheer up Father … I’ll be seeing Jesus before you.’

“She died about an hour afterwards and yes … she did see Jesus before me Roger. She remained faithful to Him despite all that had happened to her.”

A few moments of silence followed as both men reflected on what had just been said.

“Go in peace Roger …” said Father Ignatius, “Trust Him to know better and to lead you where you are meant to be …”

Tell it as it is.

Miss Lemon had invited Father Ignatius to sit in at Catechism class for the seven year olds at Junior School. He duly obliged and after the youngsters greeted him warmly and sang a welcoming song for him, Miss Lemon managed to settle them down and start her class.

She was talking about the sanctity of marriage and how important the family unit is in today’s society.

“When a man and a woman love each other very much,” she said, “they decide to get married and they have a wedding. Jesus went to a wedding a long time ago. Father Ignatius will read you the story later. How many of you have been to a wedding?”

A few children raised their hands and they talked all at once relating their experiences.

“Good … OK settle down,” she continued gently, “now when a man and a woman get married in church there is a priest there to bless the marriage … and the man and woman are given rings to wear on this finger here … Did you see that happen … Those of you who have been to a wedding?”

One or two of them said they’d seen this when they attended a relative’s wedding.

“The wedding rings are a symbol of the people’s love for one another,” continued Miss Lemon patiently, “and they normally wear the ring all their lives. It shows to everyone that they are married.

“So … can anyone tell me how you tell a man and a woman are married?”

A young boy raised his hand and said, “They yell at the same kids!”

God is getting old.

Father Ignatius’s car had broken down just on the day he had to drive to the City miles away. Somehow he was glad this had happened because in all honesty he hated to drive long distances, especially when it involved negotiating busy traffic in the City.

He phoned his local garage for help and just as luck would have it, or was it a God-incidence, one of the managers was due to travel to the City that very day and he was happy to take Father Ignatius to his Conference and drive him back the same evening.

Oh what a God send Gerald was as he and the priest set off on the long journey. For once Father Ignatius could relax and not worry about the driving.

A few minutes into the journey Gerald started the conversation.

“I was thinking Father,” he said, “do you reckon that God has mellowed with age?”

“What do you mean?” enquired the priest.

“Well …” continued Gerald, “in the Old Testament we see Him full of wrath and anger sending floods everywhere and pestilence on the Egyptians and all sorts of bad things to those who did not tow the line. He behaved like a right monster at times, thumping people on the head if they did not obey Him.

“And now we’re told He’s a loving, caring, forgiving Father who has our best interests at heart. Why do you think He changed strategy? Did His first plans not work?”

Father Ignatius laughed.

“I’m amused that you think I know all about God’s plans,” he said, “the Almighty does not confide in me you know …”

“Maybe not Father! But you must admit it is a total change of tactics from anger and wrath … and you must admit the Bible says in the Old Testament things like vengeance is mine … and I am a jealous God … and all that. And now it’s all gentleness and sweet love … at least that’s what you priests lead us to believe.

“Why doesn’t God thump people on the head and into line these days? The world is going to ruin and His sweet love will get us nowhere …”

The priest laughed again at Gerald’s direct and forthright way of putting things.

“OK … let’s analyze what you’ve been saying …” said Father Ignatius, “on the face of it … it does appear that there’s a great contrast between the description of God in the Old Testament and the description in the New Testament.

“Now what I’m saying here is purely my opinion, you understand. I don’t have a hotline to God and I’m not privy to His strategies and plans …”

Gerald smiled and nodded.

“We tend to see God from our human perspective,” continued the priest, “we see Him with human understanding and we attribute to Him human qualities, plans, strategies, emotions and so on.

“But God is God. And man is man. We cannot possibly understand Him from our viewpoint, nor should we attempt to do so.

“Now it could well be … and this is me guessing here you understand Gerald … it could well be that the people at the time of the Old Testament were accustomed to being led … being guided … and told what to do.

“Can you imagine for instance one man … Moses … guiding a multitude of people out of Egypt, promising them a better life elsewhere, and going round in circles in the desert for forty years?

"This wouldn't happen today.

“In modern times people would have set up committees to discuss the project, appointed several managers to chair sub-committees and devised multiple budgetary plans and operational strategies … all before their poor overworked wives had time to pack the luggage and prepare the kids to leave Cairo.

“Yet in the Old Testament one man said let’s go … and they all went.

“True … they argued and rebelled along the way … and Moses dealt with it in a forthright manner as you advocate …”

Gerald laughed.

“So it could well be that God treated people in the Old Testament days the way they expected to be lead and the way they understood,” said Father Ignatius, “With firmness where necessary … yet at all times with fairness and compassion.

“This is only my opinion … as I said.

“And it could be that in His own time, according to His will, God decided to send Jesus to us in human form to teach us … to show us God’s infinite love, and to forgive and redeem us through His death and Resurrection.

“Jesus in human form had to be kind, and gentle and compassionate to portray God’s infinite love. And He taught us in the Lord’s Prayer about a loving Father caring for His children and always ready to provide for them.

"It would have been pointless to have a ruthless commanding Jesus forcing people to obey Him. This does not depict God's love for us, which is so infinite, that He gave up His own Son to die for us.

“Hence the contrast between the Old and New Testaments …”

At this point a huge truck overtook their car and moved back into lane so close that Gerald had to swerve sharply in order to avoid a collision.

“Stupid idiot …” shouted Gerald, and then muttered something else unrepeatable under his breath.

After a moment or two as the two men calmed down a little Gerald continued, “There are times Father, when I wish God would deal with people the old fashioned Old Testament way!”

Father Ignatius said nothing but prayed silently that God may forgive Gerald for his immediate reaction under pressure.

Old Henry.

Old Henry was seventy-five years old yet his mind was as keen and sharp as it’s ever been; even though his body slowed him down a little with the usual aches and pains that surprise old folks every morning when they occur in ever new and unexpected places.

He didn’t leave his small cottage very often and spent his time pottering about in the garden or sitting indoors by his radio. He was glad of company every now and then, especially since he lived alone, and he particularly looked forwards to Father Ignatius’ visits every week. The priest would pray a while with him and give him Holy Communion, and then they would spend sometime discussing world affairs and putting things to right.

This week however old Henry was unusually quiet. Father Ignatius wondered if perhaps he was unwell and would not say in case the doctor took him to hospital for a check-up.

“You’re rather quiet today,” said the priest hesitantly, “has nothing happened in the world this week Henry?”

“No … it’s not that …” replied the old man, “it’s Thumper … I found him dead this morning …”

“Oh dear … I’m sorry to hear it …” replied Father Ignatius “It’s so sad when a pet dies … I love my dog Canis and I’d be heart-broken when his turn comes … but … but …” hesitated the priest, “I’ve been visiting you for a while … I never knew you had a dog …”

“Thumper is not a dog …” said old Henry, “he’s a goldfish … or rather he was … I found him floating on the surface of his tank this morning … as dead as a dodo …”

“Oh …” mumbled the puzzled priest.

“I called him Thumper because he thumped his tail on the side of the tank when I fed him … alas … Thumper will thump no more …”

Father Ignatius said nothing imagining for a moment a goldfish thumping its tail against the glass tank wall.

“I plan to bury him in the garden,” said Henry, “just by the rose bush. He’s in that cardboard box there … Will you say a few words with me whilst I bury him?”

It was rather unusual but the kind priest acquiesced. Henry opened the box and showed Father Ignatius a three inches goldfish lying peacefully on its side on a bed of cotton wool.

The two men went out in the garden and Henry placed the open box on a table with the lid beside it.

“I’ll go fetch a spade to dig a hole …” he said as he shuffled slowly towards a shed a few yards away.

Just as Henry was out of sight it happened. It happened so quickly that Father Ignatius had no time to react. He just stood there, frozen on his feet, watching the whole event unfold before his very eyes and unable to do anything to prevent it.

A cat came out of the bushes … jumped on the garden table … picked up the dead fish in its mouth … and hurried away in a flash.

Father Ignatius put the lid back on the box and held it solemnly in his hands. He prayed that the old man would not ask to see his beloved Thumper one last time before committing him to the ground.

Henry returned and started digging a hole by the rose bush. He then took the box from the priest’s hands and laid it in the hole and started covering it with earth he’d just dug up.

Father Ignatius stood silently throughout the whole ceremony, thanking the Good Lord that Henry did not open the empty box one last time.

Henry stood by the tiny grave, head bent slightly down, and finally said “I’ll miss you Thumper … you’ve been a good companion to me all these years … I’ll miss your waggling tail every morning … rest in peace my friend … wherever you are …”

Father Ignatius said “Amen” as the cat came out of the bushes licking its lips in delight.

The two men made their way back into the house.

“Will you get another goldfish Henry?” asked Father Ignatius cautiously as they sat down drinking a cup of tea.

“Nah …” said old Henry, “too much trouble … changing the tank water every few days … I can’t be bothered with a goldfish anymore … I might get a budgie though!”

Father Ignatius smiled as he readied himself to leave.

“You’re a kind old priest … in your funny sort of way …” said Henry as he walked him to the front door.

“How so?” asked Father Ignatius.

Henry smiled as his eyes brightened and he said “I saw that darned neighbor’s cat eat Thumper … and you said nothing … you let me bury an empty box so as not to upset me … that’s very Christian of you if I may say so …”

Father Ignatius said nothing his lips half-smiling in nervous appreciation.

“One day I’ll bury that darned cat too … mark my words …” continued old Henry.

Cry from the heart - Father Francis.

At last I have managed to obtain an old tape of the song Cry from the Heart recorded by Father Francis Maple. Here it is:



Mommy keep me safe, mommy keep me warm

Handle me with care, mommy help me to form.

I am ten weeks old, and I know the time will come
when you will give birth to me.

The gift you gave to me are a pair of bright blue eyes
So some day I will see you smile and love me.

I’ve already got my arms and a little podgy nose,
And at the end of my feet I’ve got five little toes.

I look forward to my life, ice cream and slimy snails,
teddy bears and little fairy tales.

Going for walks in the park
Running home before it’s dark.
And being tucked into bed with a kiss.

Where are we going today?
Am I in a boat or bus?

Why are we lying down?
Being drawn on four wheels?

And we go through the door
and there’s people dressed in green.
Everything seems so strange and so clean.

Mommy if they hurt you just let out a scream
and I know someone will come to help you and me.

Mommy what’s going on I am starting to cry
Come quickly they are forcing me to die.

They are killing me mommy, they are pulling me apart
My arms and my legs and now they’re at my heart.

And I won’t see the sky, or the grass or the trees.
and I won’t see the moon, or feel the breeze.

I love you mommy dear, you know I really do
But I only wish you could have loved me too!

The deal.

There are times that whatever Father Ignatius says or advises is sure to be misinterpreted or misunderstood. Yet, his duty as a priest and guide to his flock is to teach them, as best he can, about God our Creator and His unrelenting love for us.

One day he entered the church from the Sacristy and saw an elderly lady kneeling in the middle aisle right at the back of the church. He said nothing and proceeded to the Altar where he took away the candlesticks back to the Sacristy for Mrs Davenport to clean.

A few moments later he re-entered the church to find the same old lady still on her knees but a few paces further forward towards the Altar. He approached her gently. He hadn’t seen her before in church.

“Welcome to our church” he said in his soothing kind voice, “you’re new here … I haven’t seen you visiting us before …”

“I can’t get up Father …” she said looking up at him from her kneeling position.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, “Do you wish me to help you up?

“Oh no Father … I’m able to get up … but I can’t … I don’t want to upset God.”

“I’m sure God will not be upset if you have a rest for a while …” said Father Ignatius comforting her, “here … sit down for a while … and tell me all about it.”

He held out his hand and the elderly lady got up with some difficulty and sat down on the nearest pew. He sat down beside her and asked, “Why did you think God would be upset?”

“Well Father …” she hesitated, “my son is fifty years old, and he’s just lost his job … he has a wife and three children to look after … he won’t find another job at his age … not in the current situation. So I said to God that I’d pray the whole Rosary on my knees … walking one step at a time … from the back of the church to His altar. Then I’d do the Stations of the Cross on my knees … so that He would help my son get a job.”

Father Ignatius was touched by the love of this elderly mother for her son. He smiled gently and said “It’s good of you to pray for your son … it shows how much you love him and his family …

“But God does not want you to walk all around the church on your knees.”

“I’d do anything Father …” she said, “tell me what to do … and I’ll do it no matter how much it hurts me …”

“God does not want you to be hurt …” replied the priest gently, “God loves us and He listens to our prayers as long as they’re honest and come from the heart …

“He does not want us to beg like dogs … He does not want to humiliate us and make us lose our dignity …"

He stopped for a while and then continued.

“Humiliation and loss of dignity is the work of humans. See how we humiliated Jesus when we stripped Him of His clothes, we spat on Him, beat Him and mocked Him; and eventually killed Him most cruelly by nailing Him to the Cross.

“The Stations of the Cross are a reminder of how we humiliated Him and took His dignity away. And we still do so today when we hurt and hate one another instead of loving each other as He commanded.

“God does not want you to walk around in pain on your knees … He listens to your prayers no matter how or where they are said. Even sitting at home just say to Him in your own words how you care for your son and his family … ask God to help them. I’m sure He’ll listen and … in His own way and time … He will respond.”

“But I promised to do the Stations of the Cross on my knees …” she protested.

“Hey … trust me …I’m a priest …” Father Ignatius said with a smile, “I’ll pray to God for you and your family … Believe me, you don’t need to go down walking on your knees. Just sit here for a while and say a little prayer.”

“I’ll do that Father …” she said as the priest got up to go back to the Sacristy, “although I might stay on my knees for fifteen minutes to show God I’m willing …”