needs-a-hug Simon for lost_talent
It wasn’t unusual for Maria to stay after the late mass on Sunday and tune up the organ. And it wasn’t unusual for Simon to begin his work for the next weekend listening to her run her hands across the keys, working the old girl back to the state she was before she’d played for most of the day. However, it was more than a little unusual for her to walk down from the organ loft and find the priest sitting in a pew, facing the candles for the dead with his head in his hands.
Simon looked up at the footfall and was quite glad of the fact that in the evening, the church was dark enough that she hopefully couldn’t see the rough redness of his eyes, but he rubbed a hand over them quickly, just in case.
“Father?” Maria’s voice carried in the still quiet of the sanctuary and he gave her a weak smile.
“Hello Maria. Sounded lovely, as usual,” His voice was quiet, slightly strained and he motioned to the pew beside him, and turned his attention back to the candles, the ones lit from the day, and if she’d looked closely, one more that hadn’t been there before.
As she sat, Simon shifted a bit uncomfortably. Not because of Maria, no, of his parishioners, she was one of his favorites - though he was sure there was a rule somewhere that said he was supposed to love them all equally - but because this was a bit of a foreign thing for him. As a priest, he offered the comfort, he was the one who listened to people’s problems and gave them advice, and as far as things normally went, he was blessed with few concerns of his own, and turning to God had always helped him before, there was always some passage of the Bible that helped him cope.
Her hand found his knee gently and he looked down at it, and then up at her, those wide eyes soft and kind and he inclined his head slightly, a small gesture of thanks.
“My grandmother,” he said softly, answering the question she was kind enough not to ask. “She’s been sick for a couple years now, but…” his words trailed off, he should have been better prepared for this moment, and it’s not as if he didn’t expect it, not as if he didn’t know it was coming. “It seems so…silly. I mean, I offer everyone else the same bits of scripture, same assurances about God. I wonder if it helps them.”
The woman didn’t say anything, didn’t offer him an answer to that question, and instead leaned out and wrapped her arms tight around his shoulders. He paused for a moment, startled, but then smiled softly and wrapped his arms back around her, relishing in the simply act and realizing that for once, words simply weren’t necessary for comfort.
Simon looked up at the footfall and was quite glad of the fact that in the evening, the church was dark enough that she hopefully couldn’t see the rough redness of his eyes, but he rubbed a hand over them quickly, just in case.
“Father?” Maria’s voice carried in the still quiet of the sanctuary and he gave her a weak smile.
“Hello Maria. Sounded lovely, as usual,” His voice was quiet, slightly strained and he motioned to the pew beside him, and turned his attention back to the candles, the ones lit from the day, and if she’d looked closely, one more that hadn’t been there before.
As she sat, Simon shifted a bit uncomfortably. Not because of Maria, no, of his parishioners, she was one of his favorites - though he was sure there was a rule somewhere that said he was supposed to love them all equally - but because this was a bit of a foreign thing for him. As a priest, he offered the comfort, he was the one who listened to people’s problems and gave them advice, and as far as things normally went, he was blessed with few concerns of his own, and turning to God had always helped him before, there was always some passage of the Bible that helped him cope.
Her hand found his knee gently and he looked down at it, and then up at her, those wide eyes soft and kind and he inclined his head slightly, a small gesture of thanks.
“My grandmother,” he said softly, answering the question she was kind enough not to ask. “She’s been sick for a couple years now, but…” his words trailed off, he should have been better prepared for this moment, and it’s not as if he didn’t expect it, not as if he didn’t know it was coming. “It seems so…silly. I mean, I offer everyone else the same bits of scripture, same assurances about God. I wonder if it helps them.”
The woman didn’t say anything, didn’t offer him an answer to that question, and instead leaned out and wrapped her arms tight around his shoulders. He paused for a moment, startled, but then smiled softly and wrapped his arms back around her, relishing in the simply act and realizing that for once, words simply weren’t necessary for comfort.