Posted by: okathleen | September 24, 2009

St Therese

In the Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ the King the flock sat huddled around the altar excitedly whispering to each other.

I leant against a pillar in the shadows at the back surveying many lilac perms and sky blue wimples.

Women, en masse.

Awaiting the remains of St Therese, a huge event for the Catholic Church in the UK.


The anticipation and expectation was catching.

My eyes swam as a choir of claret clothed girls sang ‘Stella Maris’ so sweetly, welcoming in The Little Flower.

A priest in Prada specs paused just in front of me, stooping to his fuschia’d bishop he whispered:

“No, no I won’t open a confession now, I’ll never get out of there if I do.”

He winked and I pushed my way out through the affected and the afflicted buying bookmarks and mugs.


  1. Hmmm…all the more reason to have confessionals open. This is a selfish priest. Prada specs? A little extravagant, though they’re not so much more than what I buy-$75US for mine vs $300 for his…but when you don’t pay rent or food, it’s easier on a priest’s salary…the rest? unremarkable.

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