Remembrance MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

   WhenI was in the prime of my childhood, I was the pastor of a small congregation inmy grandparents' basement. I shared this position with my two cousins, Megan andMichael. Rotating duties as priest, organist and lector, and with the help of achildren's missal, a small antique organ, and a working knowledge of the Mass, weheld services whenever we got together. The parishioners were few, consistingonly of our parents and grandparents, but they obediently came to fulfill theirreligious obligations when we commanded.

Another favorite, though lessfrequent, event was the yearly Christmas concert. While the family lingered overcoffee in the dining room, we would plot in secret, and organize a spectacularHoliday Musical Extravaganza for them. Michael had a real talent for the pianoand would arrange the score, which consisted mainly of renditions of "GoodKing Wenceslas." Megan and I choreographed what we believed to bemagnificent dances. After we rehearsed several times, we admitted the audience tothe theater, and the performance began.

My cousins and I spent many happyhours at my grandparents' house. We played school and house, and strung plasticEaster eggs in the Japanese maple outside. We were at our creative best, though,in the large-scale productions - the masses and the concerts. The three of us hada friendship, a camaraderie, in those years that we will never have again.Because they had the advantage over me of more years (Megan three and Michaelone), my cousins had a certain brilliance, a knowledge of the world, that I couldnever hope to have. They were my idols.

We grew up, as all children do.Our lives became packed with school and activities. Megan and Michael grewincreasingly human in my eyes. We had less and less time to spend together, andgradually drifted apart.

There was one day in the hazy past that was thelast time we embarked into our imaginations together. It was a mercifuloccurrence that we were not aware that this happy event would be the last, for wewere free of the remorse that would keep us from enjoying it.

I amsorry that Megan, Michael and I have lost the closeness we once shared. I know wehave promising futures, and look forward to them, but I cannot help but rememberour days as inseparable friends. The only threads that connect us now arefamilial ones and our history. There are times when we are together and the oldchemistry will flash, and we will laugh as we used to. We remember what it waslike to be young and free, with glittering giggles. We cannot return to thosedays, but their memories are alive and well.

There is a sparkle of a childwithin each of us. Though we hide it deeper as we grow, every once in a while thesparkle escapes to play, and dazzle us with dancing. Our souls are at theirtruest, most unencumbered purity in childhood, and so it is when looking backthat we remember how to shine.

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i love this so much!


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