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Father Michael Daly was supposed to
be the breath of fresh air St. Anselm's so badly needed. The parish
had been suffering from pernicious boredom and frustration under the
auspices of an ailing, semi-senile Father Keane. But it took a collapse,
and a letter to the Bishop from the Parish Committee, to force the
change. Yet still there were some older parishioners, who saw the
move as disloyal. I suspect it might have been nearer to the truth
to say that they found it disturbing to see their own frail mortality
reflected in the old priest's demise. Father Michael, a disgustingly
young, fresh, handsome priest who preferred to use his first, rather
than his surname, rubbed salt in their wounded pride. |
| Naturally
the bishop had agreed to allow Father Keane to remain at the parish
house with Father Michael to show him the ropes and support him
in his first attempt at being parish priest. But rather than appreciating
the bishop's compassion, there were some who saw it as condescending.
Father
Michael installed himself in the Parish House in the hot, sweltering
summer. He engaged Daddy's services in setting up a sink with running
hot and cold in the upstairs storeroom that he felt would be an
ideal bedroom cum study. Daddy told us all about him. Shouldn't
have I'm sure, but still we sat enthralled as he related the secrets
he had discovered whilst odd jobbing for the new priest. Daddy was
shown the masses of old, thick, highbrow books for which sturdy
shelves were needed. He had opened one or two and been shocked at
their controversial contents. Foreign books, translated of course,
on radical subjects like the necessity of divorce, the acceptability
of contraception, and worst of all, a leaflet which had fallen out
of a hardback theology tome on the virtue of married priests, using
the Anglican Church as an example.
A scandal. |
| As
a member of the Committee who had asked for this gust of fresh air,
Daddy began to feel he might be responsible for the eventual moral
downfall of St. Anselm's into Sodom and Gomorra. Mam almost burst
a blood vessel laughing. Kitty too, when Mam told her.
“I
married a fossil,” Mam told Kitty.
“Sure
aren't most men fossils. It's only when they've experienced a life
of deprivation like our Father Michael that they even dare to consider
a more modern approach to life.”
“My
mother always said it was because they can't have children.”
“And
because they can always run off to the pub when the going gets tough.”
“Aye,
you're right there.”
But
apart from his books, Father Michael had an unusually large amount
of lay clothes which he explained away, unasked, to Daddy, by saying
that when he went to America during the summer to visit his brother
he liked to dress casually.
More
scandal. more |
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For
avid readers, living in the Netherlands. This is the place to be.


come
visit some time
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