B
Bootoo
Guest
For as long as I have been going to my parish, we have had an elderly retired priest who volunteered his time to say Mass at our church at least every few weeks. Yesterday at vigil Mass our priest announced that he had died earlier in the week, at age 85. When I went to my first Mass at this parish, over 15 years ago, he was the priest presiding. I remember seeing him walk down the aisle, with a smile on his face big enough to light up the whole church, and thinking “this man does love being a priest”. In all these, years, I have never seen anything to change my mind about that. He was always affable and upbeat, and gave great sermons from which I learned probably more than I ever learned as a child taking religious education classes. I had no personal relationship with this man, aside from being on the receiving end of his bright smile sometimes. But when I heard of his death, tears were in my eyes. He was a Father to me, in every sense of the word, and I am greatful for everything he gave us.