Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 29

           SomebodyoftheBarefootPenitentsofRighteousMisery…butjustbecauseIcannotrememberthenamesordetailsofallthesebuttressesandcornicesisnottosaythatIdonotlovetobeinsidetheseplaceswithmysister,whosecobalteyesmissnothing.Idon’trememberthenameofthechurchthathadthosefrescoesthatlookedsomuchlikeAmericanWPANewDealheroicmurals,butIdorememberCatherinepointingthemouttomeandsaying,"YougottalovethoseFranklinRooseveltpopesupthere…"IalsorememberthemorningwewokeearlyandwenttomassatSt.Susanna,andheldeachother’shandsaswelistenedtothenunstherechantingtheirdaybreakGregorianhymns,bothofusintearsfromtheechoinghauntoftheirprayers.Mysisterisnotareligiousperson.Nobodyinmyfamilyreallyis.(I’vetakentocallingmyselfthe"whitesheep"ofthefamily.)Myspiritualinvestigationsinterestmysistermostlyfromapointofintellectualcuriosity."Ithinkthatkindoffaithissobeautiful,"shewhisperstomeinthechurch,"butIcan’tdoit,Ijustcan’t…"

           Here’sanotherexampleofthedifferenceinourworldviews.Afamilyinmysister’sneighborhoodwasrecentlystrickenwithadoubletragedy,whenboththeyoungmotherandherthree-year-oldsonwerediagnosedwithcancer.WhenCatherinetoldmeaboutthis,Icouldonlysay,shocked,"DearGod,thatfamilyneedsgrace."Sherepliedfirmly,"Thatfamilyneedscasseroles,"andthenproceededtoorganizetheentireneighborhoodintobringingthatfamilydinner,inshifts,everysinglenight,foranentireyear.

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