She
ten-years-old. Her temperament wandered between self-conscious and
shy. Every Sunday she'd been at church since first grade, excepting,
of course, the occasional visit to grandparents or vacation trips.
Often her pretty face was not visible when an adult talked to her;
she had a habit of looking toward her toes when social situations
called forth her awkwardness.
For years the parson had watched her watching the acolytes lighting the candles to begin the morning worship. On a few occasions he'd seen her standing in the worship prep room looking at the candle lighter hanging on the wall. Once he'd seen her tentatively reach out and touch its wooden handle, wrapping her fingers gently around it. She never knew he saw her.
She'd seen somewhat more animated two Sundays prior. As she'd walked out with her parents to greet the parson following the service, on impulse, the parson knelt and asked, “Is there any possibility you could be our acolyte next Sunday. Helen is supposed to to that but she's going to be out-of-town. I'd really appreciate it if you could.”
“I don't know,' she said. “I've never done it before.”
“But you've watched others do it for years. Tell you what, you talk with your parents and one of you can call me by Wednesday if you can do it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
The parson noticed there was a bit of a bounce to her normally slow gait as she walked across the parking lot.
Wednesday brought a call from her mother. She'd do it.
On Sunday morning the parson sat in his chair on the chance. The music began. She started down the aisle taking much more time that the more experienced acolyte. She smiled big as she passed her mother. At the altar table she held the candlelighter up to the candle top. The parson saw the whole lighter shaking with the vibration of her nerves. One candle lit she stepped across the front of the table making a small bow before the cross. Then the shaking lighter moved upward and the second candle was lit. She glanced toward the parson and once again the smile was big.
As she went to take her appointed seat the parson smiled, too. God was symbolically and in a very real way present.
Nothing beats the smile of a child doing their first turn at being an acolyte. Thanks for sharing.
Posted by: Wayne | November 24, 2008 at 09:53 AM
:)
Posted by: Linda | November 24, 2008 at 12:07 PM
I remember when Debbie H. and I were acolytes at the little Congregational church we grew up in in N.H. Several years we were a team, thru Junior High and High school, doing 1 or 2 services a month. I wondered on more than one occasion if I'd be walking down that asile with her in another context some day. I haven't seen her since graduation, more than 30 years ago.
Posted by: DannyG | November 25, 2008 at 09:49 PM
A lovely post, and a reminder of how much I also enjoy the concentration, solemnity, and joy of our young acolytes.
Posted by: zorra | November 26, 2008 at 10:25 AM