Sunday

         After the service was over, my thoughts were focused on getting to my car as quickly as possible. Being that I was late to the service in the first place, all of the parking spots had already been occupied. It didn’t bother me, though. I enjoyed a nice stroll every so often. Today was bitter cold though, so I was in a hurry to get home. As I trotted out the doors of the cathedral, I was greeted by a biting frost, and a face-stinging wind to go with it. Upon nearing the street my car was parked on, I saw the dreaded image that resembled the last person I wanted to converse with, especially now that the service was over and I was in a rush to get home. Seeing that I had to get to my car, though, I had no choice but to walk directly past him. Standing with his long, stretched garments draped over his shoulders and possessing an authoritative but authentically kind demeanor, the compassionate figure spotted me and approached me immediately.

         "Well, did you enjoy mass, son?” he asked me tiredly.

         "Ya, it was alright,” I responded lethargically, obviously anxious to escape the situation which had just started.

         "How about the sermon?” he inquired.

         "I guess it was O.K.,” I replied.

         Now I was starting to become annoyed, and that would quickly turn into irritation if I continued to let the conversation bother me much longer.

         "You know,” he said, a slight smile creeping from the edges of his mouth, “it’s awfully comforting to see young men like yourself attending mass. It’s reassuring, like a sign that the world might have a little more good left in it.”

         Squinting into the violent gusts of wind, I responded with a disinterested “Ya” as my mind wandered to what warm meal I would be having for lunch.

         "When I was your age,” he began, his eyes now trailing off into the sky, “I was the last person you would have found in church. My priorities were made up of other things. But with enough hardships and tough lessons learned, I guess one naturally finds himself where he thinks he ought to be,” he said, “whether in a church or in the kitchen of a McDonald’s,” he added with a warm chuckle.

         An awkward silence followed the statement, quickly replaced by his voice.

         "But, that’s neither here nor there,” he said alertly, clearly sensing my eagerness to leave. “You probably have a family to get home to, and I don’t want to keep you from that.”

         Appreciative that the conversation had drawn to an end, I gave him a friendly smile and an assuring nod. As I began to make my way to the car, I heard his voice call out to me.

         "Never lose sight of the good in life and it will never lose sight of you,” he hollered, “and have a blessed day, son!”

         Climbing into my car, I glanced back and saw him retrieving his cardboard sign from the brittle ground and thought to myself, “Ya, the world might just have a little more good left in it.”