Meanwhile in my stream of consciousness!
The day was here finally. All the preparations by the parshioners were all for this day, the silver jubilee of Revered Father Godwin, having been ordained twenty-five years ago as a canthonlic priest.
The man himself was a sight to behold. Fair, handsome and muscular, he looked not like a man who led services, but like an Adonis of legend.
The service that day began with a festive air, people from all over the state had come to see the man they dearly loved. The Bischop, Most Revered Uncle Maurtyn was present alongside a number of visiting priests. They all added to the air of celebration.
The service began promptly and was concluded in two hours as even the visiting priests and priestesses wanted to begin the celebrations.
The reception began few minutes afterwards in a hall packed full with people. Food and drinks were served and all had their fill. Societies came forward with gifts, some also presented a dance or drama just to honour the celebrant. Fr. Godwin was all smiles and gratitude as he took in all that was done for him. Celebrations continued until it was time for him to give his own remarks and the hall quieted.
Fr. Godwin spoke about his experience in the priesthood and how much he had seen and done. At the end, a little girl who had been listening with rapt attention raised her hand, wishing to ask a question. Fr. Godwin nodded to her and she jumped to her feet.
‘‘Fr. Sir, why did you go to the seminary’’ she asked.
Everyone turned from her and focused on Fr. Godwin, a sudden hush silenced the little bubbles of noise. They looked on, awaiting his reply.
‘‘Thirty-five years ago, I decided to enter the seminary and become a priest because I could not face the idea a wedding dance. You see, I am a bad dancer and I knew it would embarrass the lady I married if I danced badly so I decided to skip marriage and become a priest.’’
The hall was silent for some seconds and then everyone erupted in a loud guffaw, drowning the voice of the MC who kept trying to restore calm.
The next day, dailies and soft-sells carried a screaming headline ‘‘MAN RUNS TO THE SEMINARY TO ESCAPE NUPTIAL DANCE!’’.
The story was comically presented beneath and became an instant hit.
Seated behind his huge mahogany desk in MauriaVille, Most Revered Uncle Maurtyn read the story, his face like a saint with indigestion. As he read, he recalled the emotion that went through his mind at that reception and he winced.
Later, relaxed and with his fingers crossed in a triangle, he wondered if he should transfer Fr. Godwin or leave him be.
Spellings are deliberate
