The woman did not answer, merely nodding her head by way of assent . Another smile and the priest followed the direction indicated until reaching a noticeably polished wooden door – the lady had clearly given it her recent attention . He knocked politely and entered on the word “Come.”
As he opened the door, he was impressed by the file description of Father Rafferty; it was spot on . How long ago the file had been updated, there was no way of knowing but, somehow, Ignatious perceived, this priest had not changed probably in a decade.
“Good morning, Minister,” began Ignatious . “I am Brother Ignatious Saviour of the Jesuit corps . I’m sorry to trouble you.”
Father Rafferty swung around from his desk, on an ancient wooden swivel chair, where he had been preparing the sermon for Sunday’s service . He was to speak on the subject of neighbourly love, expounding the virtues of selflessness and the giving of aid and moral support to friends, neighbours and relatives . He would also be including strangers, though with caution.
Ignatious recognised the expression on the good priest’s face, the one that showed an amazed awe . He was so accustomed to the effect that he had become to feel a real holiness about himself . He extended a hand in greeting to the seated man, feeling a warm crispness in the grip.
Father Rafferty stood, at last recovering from the immediate impact of the Jesuit, and shaking the strong hand proffered . He, too, liked the firmness of the handshake, confirming his long-held belief that a lot could be drawn from the simple, timeworn greeting.
“Hello, Brother . What brings you to this part of the world?” he asked.
Ignatious told him briefly about his mission within the new role the Holy Pope himself had ordered, and that he was here today to seek out anyone who may benefit from his brand of counselling . He also offered to hear confessions and, if required, administer Holy Communion on the Sunday.
Father Rafferty was delighted with the visit and the intriguing mission . No doubt there were several parishioners who would benefit from a meeting with the Jesuit . He immediately invited Ignatious to stay for a light lunch and evening meal, giving them a chance to talk.
Ignatious readily agreed . He looked forward to a decent meal, which he felt certain the priest would be able to offer - prepared and cooked by someone else, of course, - perhaps the industrious lady earlier encountered . Father Rafferty led the Jesuit through a connecting door and into the recently built accommodation attached to the church.
Salad sandwiches were soon provided for lunch and they were, indeed, supplied by the cleaning lady, who turned out to be a Mrs. Bertha Collingswood, personal help to the good Father, who sorted his mail, cleaned, laundered and cooked for him.
A widow, she had lived through a childless marriage to Kenneth, who had died from cancer of the bowel two years ago . Although she’d dearly wished for children, she had enjoyed a mostly happy life with Kenneth, none-the-less . Her memories remained with her and helped to sustain, as did the work she happily carried out for the priest, free of charge . She would be preparing the evening meal, pleased to have a guest, especially one such as this.
The parish priest quickly warmed to the Jesuit, still bathed in the ‘ glow ’ of the holy man, and suggested he take some confession this very afternoon. The confessional times were posted as being from 2pm to 3.30pm, and there were usually a reasonable number of people attending, normally around twenty or so in total . Ignatious graciously accepted the offer.
At five minutes to two, the priest escorted Ignatious into the church where they observed a gathering of around a dozen people knelt in the pews awaiting confession . As always, women outnumbered men; on this occasion there were nine females and only three males . Of these,
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