The Angelic Occurrence

by Henry K. Ripplinger

  “I wish I had let her know more often how much I loved her. As a marriage goes on we take each other for granted and we assume that our partner knows our feelings for them and at times we think the grass is greener on the other side. Perhaps even more important than what we have discussed is this: when you look at your lady friend at your work place, instead visualize your wife, the girl you made a promise to, the girl you vowed to honour and be faithful to. And when you come home, go to her, look in her eyes without guilt or shame and see the woman you really love. And tell her so.

  “Tell her how much you appreciate her and ask her out for a date on the weekend, or surprise her with an outing during the week. Take her to a fine restaurant or to a movie or the theatre. And, you know, I will tell you right now, my son, that if you do that regularly, that wife of yours will make love to you that’s honest and good and real and will outshine, outperform and outdo anything that lady at work will do. And what’s more, is that you will feel true love and not shame and guilt. Do you hear me?

  “You have to constantly remind yourself of the gem you have, keep polishing it with kindness, appreciation, encouragement. That is the meaning of love and how to grow deep in your relationship. Then you won’t need to go elsewhere or ever deal with all the terrible problems that infidelity can bring to a family.”

  Father reached forward to a filing board he had screwed to the back of his confessional door. It was made of five separate slots, each containing sheets of paper with scriptural passages that applied to various common sins. Father took out one of the sheets of paper, rolled it up and slid it through one of the squares in the screen.

  “For penance, I want you to memorize the scriptures on this page. They have to do with the Lord renewing your spirit, transforming your mind, giving praise and thanks for his blessings and turning all things into good. Trust Him. Try to get up earlier this week, go on your knees and pray and read other passages. Prepare yourself and focus yourself on the day and the task at hand. This is a tough battle you face. You must put on the whole armour of God.

  “Try to come to church as often as you can, receive Holy Communion and pray to God in the presence of the tabernacle. Also, ask the Holy Mother to help and guide you to a pure mind and heart. And for the next month, I ask you to come to confession every Saturday to discuss your progress. You are not alone in this battle. Together and with God’s help we can deal with this.

  “Remember, my son, it takes a lifetime to develop character. Every time you obey the words of God to do what is honest, good and right you become a stronger and more mature person. And not only that, every thought and action we have carries with it eternal consequences. It’s your character at the end of day, when all is said and done, that God will judge you on and reward you accordingly. Were you loving, kind, honest, faithful, generous, and serving of God and others?

  “This is what you carry with you at that instant of transition. At that moment, there will be no time for character development. So, make every action, deed, and thought count. It’s a sure way to be happy on earth, to be an example and of service to others, and ensure your happiness in the next. Do you have any comments or questions?”

  “No, Father, and thank you. I will do as you suggest.”

  “It’s up to you now to choose wisely. Earlier you said you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror. If you do the things we discussed, what would you then see reflected in the mirror, my son?”

  “A happy man, Father.” Bud chuckled through his tears. Father did the same.

  Father gave Bud absolution for his sins and then added, “Go in peace, my son, and desire to sin no more. In Christ, you can be free from all bondage.”

  Bud rose and exited the confessional booth feeling like a soiled glass that had gone through a dark dishwasher and had come out clean, clear, and sparkling into the light.

  Father closed the sliding door to the grille and prayed silently before opening the screen door on the other side of the confessional booth. He thought about Bud and the many other parishioners who came to him for this very sin. How strong sexual desires took hold and how easily Satan caused men to sin in this area. Father not only recalled his own struggles with it in his youth, but also about the first person he ever talked to about sexual concerns.

  Even though it was many years ago, he could clearly visualize himself and Henry sitting on the old grey crates behind his grocery store, talking about that very subject. Father smiled as he remembered young Henry’s desire to have sex with that new girl who moved into the neighbourhood.

  Such a pretty young girl, that Jenny. Henry had suffered such pain and heartache when she left and never wrote. Many times he, himself wondered what had happened to her, too.

  Well, it no longer mattered. God gave Henry another beautiful woman. It was so unfortunate God took Julean so early and that once again, Henry had suffered much. Fortunately, it seemed to Father that Henry had adjusted to life without her. Father remembered only too well when his Anna passed on to her Lord. How he had grieved for her, and still did to this very day, even though he knew she was happier now to be with her Lord.

  “Oh Lord, I cannot wait until the day I will be with you, too.”

  Father opened the sliding door to the other confessional booth to make sure no one was there. His eyes had so adjusted to the darkness that he easily saw the cubicle was empty. “I guess Bud was the last one.”

  He rose and left the confessional. He had been listening to confessions for over three hours and was stiff and tired. He slowly stretched his legs and took a deep breath of fresh air. He left the door open to let out the odour of sweat and tears. The odour of guilt, shame, remorse. The odour of sin. Instead of finding the odour repugnant, however, Father actually welcomed it, almost loved it. Along with the smell came forgiveness, freedom, and release from the bondage of sin. He was so thankful for the gift of absolution, that he was one of God’s shepherds, ordained to forgive the sins of his fellow man. To give them a fresh start, a new beginning to live for Jesus. To grant them peace for however brief the time until they sinned again.

  “Aah, such is life,” Father said with a sigh, “each and every moment we make a choice … to live for Jesus or ourselves.”

  An elderly lady kneeling in the front pew of the church turned towards him as his words echoed through the large, hollow ceiling. Father nodded sheepishly and went over to the side of the church where a statue of the Holy Mother was supported by a wrought iron stand containing dozens of candles on a tiered shelf near her feet. Over half of them were lit, each burning with some request. Father lit another for Bud and then another for the other people who had come to him for confession. Father knelt before his beloved Mother and silently prayed.

  He was weary and knew he would soon have to go on one of his mini-retreats to the prayer house in the valley at Henry’s farm. It was a small hut situated by the creek that meandered through the valley floor. The soothing sound of the rippling stream, the solitude, the prayerful encounter with his Lord never failed to replenish his spirit that was constantly being drained of energy. Henry called it his Poustinia and yet, strangely, he never used it.

  Chapter Seven

  At the age of 68, Edith Sarsky’s health was failing. In 1983, only a year after moving out of the estate and into her new apartment, she entered a care home. Since then, she had moved three more times into homes which provided progressively more care. She had difficulty walking now, and often Jenny arrived to see her in a wheelchair. It pained Jenny to see her mother’s deterioration. She had always been such an active and strong person.

  Edith was also beginning to accumulate excess fluid in her system. Last month, they had discovered cirrhosis of the liver, so once a month she had to go to the hospital and have the fluid drained off, as her liver could no longer do it on its own.

  “Good evening, Jenny.”

  “Hi,” Jenny responded to the duty nurse.r />
  “As soon as we saw you pull into the parking lot, we told your mother, ‘here comes your medicine.’ It was the first time your mother has smiled in days. She really missed you and is anxious to see you.”

  “Yes, I have been very busy the past few days. But I have dealt with that and should be able to visit more often again.”

  “Oh, that’s good. We all so enjoy having you come, you seem to cheer the whole place up.”

  “Why, thank you, Millie. I really needed that.”

  Her mother’s eyes brightened and widened when Jenny entered her room.

  “Hi, Mom, how are you feeling?”

  “Oh, much better now that you are here.”

  Jenny kissed her mom’s forehead. “Yes, I have been quite busy this past week.”

  “So, what have you been up to?”

  Jenny stared at her mom, debating whether she should tell her? Perhaps tomorrow. Edith hadn’t seen her for almost a week and she didn’t want to dampen her spirit right away with such sad news. “Oh, I have been sorting things out at home and making a lot of changes.”

  “Well, surely it can’t be that important that you can’t take an hour or so off to see your mother.”

  “You’re right, Mom. I won’t let it happen, again. I promise to see you regularly from now on.”

  Her mother seemed to be fine with that response because she began telling Jenny about the doctor’s visit and his assessment that her liver just didn’t have the oomph to remove the fluid as fast as it should and that she would have to go to the hospital twice a month, now.

  “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Well, don’t be. I can’t tell you how much better I feel after I have the fluid drained. I feel so bloated, almost like a helium balloon.”

  Jenny laughed. “I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humour.”

  “So, tell me how are James and J.J.? That grandson of mine is turning out to be just like his dad.”

  “Yes, he sure is,” Jenny responded.

  Jenny had never really complained to her mother about how lonely she had been in her marriage and most of the time put on a front that all was well and okay. Jenny knew her mother would not be prepared for news of the divorce. Perhaps she should have been more open with her over the years.

  “To be honest with you, Mom, James and I haven’t been seeing much of each other for a long time. He’s so absorbed in his work that he is hardly at home.” Jenny thought that she would start to prepare her mother for the inevitable news.

  “Oh, Jenny, your father was like that, too. They get so caught up in their work they forget who they are married to.”

  Jenny looked at her mother. “Well, Mom, it seems more than just work with James and me.”

  The expression on her mother’s face told Jenny that she had her mother’s attention.

  “James and I have drifted very far apart—”

  “Oh, Jenny, that’s foolish talk. It’s all in your mind. Start to cook him some of those favourite dishes I taught you. The best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

  “No, Mom, no amount of cooking is going to tantalize James. I’m afraid I don’t have the right recipe any more.”

  “Shush now, Jenny, I don’t want to hear anymore of this kind of talk.”

  It was precisely the response she expected from her mother, though she got the feeling that her mother knew exactly what she was talking about. But, as always, she just didn’t want to discuss it.

  “Tell me, how is J.J. and that girlfriend of his? Her name is Norma, isn’t it?” And before Jenny could respond, Edith went on, “And what is this talk of marriage? Surely they’re not thinking of getting married. He’s much too young.”

  “Like I told you, Mom, I don’t see much of either James or J.J. anymore, but last time I spoke with Matilda she said she thinks Norma is pregnant and that she and J.J. are thinking of getting married.”

  “Oh my, Jenny, he’s only 17! Way too young to take on such a responsibility. He’s still a boy and between you and me, a very immature one at the best of times.”

  “Matilda said that Norma is a couple of years older and seems like a sensible young lady but still, I agree with you, J.J. is too young.”

  As silence and darkness settled over them, Jenny thought about J.J. and how similar he was to his father. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for his girlfriend. If their marriage is anything like the marriage between her and James, it’s doomed to failure. As Jenny recalled the shocking conversation she’d had with James’ own mother so many years ago, she almost felt compelled to warn Norma not to marry her son… Or at least to be leery about him.

  Click.

  Jenny and her mother blinked in reaction to the sudden bright light.

  “My gosh, you two, it’s so dark in here. How on earth can you see each other?” Donna said, as she bustled in.

  “Oh, we just glow in the dark,” quipped Jenny.

  “Well that may be, but we need a little more light to do our work when the sun goes down.” Donna turned to Edith. “Well, Edith, it’s time for your medicine. I’ll bring it in as soon as your daughter leaves.”

  “Oh, I don’t need any medicine when she’s here.”

  “Now, Mom, the nurse is right, I better go. I don’t like driving at night. I’ll stop by around 2:00 o’clock tomorrow afternoon. There is something I wish to tell you.”

  “Well, tell me now. I’m getting too impatient in my old age.”

  “Oh, Mom, I really have to go and it will take a little time for me to tell you what I have to say.”

  Edith looked at her daughter and furrowed her brow, again. “Very well then, darling, I’ll just have to wait, I guess.”

  Jenny stood and went over to her mom and kissed her cheek.

  “Goodnight, Mom, I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Jenny.”

  “Goodnight, Jenny.”

  “G’night, Donna. See you, tomorrow.”

  “Oh no you won’t, I’m off for the next two days.”

  “Oh, that’s nice; well, you have a nice holiday.”

  “Yes, Timothy and I are driving to Toronto, tomorrow, and taking in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dream Coat.”

  “I’ve heard it’s a great musical. Have fun and have a nice time,” Jenny said, as she walked out the door.

  On the way down the hall, Jenny realized that in her 21-year marriage to James, they hadn’t once seen one single play together.

  As Jenny made her way to the car she felt prompted to gaze into the early evening sky. There, off to the east was the first star shining bright as ever. For the first time that day her feelings lifted as pleasant thoughts of Henry began to fill her mind.

  For a moment Jenny wasn’t sure if it was her overwhelming thoughts of Henry that were sweeping through her or was it really loving rays from him coming to her from the star? For years that loving feeling from the star was gone as if shielded by a cold block of ice. The rays were still there but the warmth had been gone until these past few months. She had first felt it again that past July 6th, their anniversary, as she had poured over her old diary late into the night, reading rapturously and reliving her experiences from that first summer they had met. She was certain the warmth was returning more and more regularly. Could her loving thoughts for Henry be thawing the barrier? Or could it be Henry’s love directed to her that was melting the shield…?

  Jenny gazed into the star-studded sky and whispered the closing sentence she’d written in the last letter to Henry containing the pewter angel. She would never forget that loving thought:

  “Even though we are far apart, you are forever in my heart.”

  Jenny woke early the next morning, so overwhelmed by all she had to do. The kettle whistled and steamed as she searched the cupboards for more of her favourite tea. Ever
since Matilda left, Jenny had difficulty finding things.

  “Ah ha! There you are.” Jenny reached into the far back of a bottom shelf and retrieved a full box of herbal tea. She placed a chamomile tea bag into a small tea pot and poured the steaming hot water into it. She carried it along with a china cup and saucer out to patio.

  “Oh my,” she exclaimed, “what a glorious day! It’s so beautiful here, I will miss all this very much.”

  Everything looked so serene, almost like a paradise. Thomas was already about his work and turned on the sprinkler at the far end of the lawn.

  Jenny placed her right hand like a visor over her eyes and gazed at the grounds before her. The sun, still low in the morning sky, streamed across the glistening dew-speckled grass. The outer mist of the water in the air surrounding the sprinklers danced and sparkled as the rays of the sun bounced through it. She loved that sight. It always reminded her of millions of tiny diamonds shimmering in the light. The grass looked so erect and fresh, almost edible. The falling droplets of water rolled off the tips of each blade, cascaded down into the soil hidden by the evergreen carpet, giving drink and nutrients to the thirsty roots.

  No wonder Thomas was so gentle and relaxed. Working with the soil and nature with all its beauty all day clearly had a therapeutic effect. With her love of gardens she realized she could just as easily have been a landscaper or gardener rather than a school librarian.

  “Morning, Mrs. Hamilton,” Thomas said, startling Jenny out of her reverie.

  “Oh, good morning, Thomas. Up early and at it, I see.”

  “Oh yes, Mrs. Hamilton, this is the best time of the day. There’s something about the early morning that’s sacred. Just so peaceful and still.”

  “Yes, I was just thinking about that. It seems to fill you with an inner calm to face the day. I just love it.”

  “I do, too. I thank the Lord every day for allowing me to care for His creation.”

  “What a beautiful thought, Thomas.”