Chapter Two: Conversion
"Were you raised…?"
"Hindu…but I…was never very religious. I never really understood it."
"Is there any history of Catholicism in your family?"
"My brother…he's a convert. His family lived in the south, and there's a very old and very larger Christian presence there."
"Yes, started by one of the Disciples of Christ thousands of years ago."
"Can you…? Now…?"
"It will take some time. Do you know of the Church's teachings?"
"Just, you know, Jesus, and God, and Sunday and Christmas. Basics"
"You will have to learn the necessary teachings, the Doctrine, the Scripture, the Tradition, the Sacraments, the Theology, the basic Prayers, but I'd say, within about three months, I could Baptize you. Your children, however, can be Baptized. Today, if the need be. I just need to witnesses. Anyone."
"Wait, just a second!"
The woman rushed outside, leaving her eight toddlers in the church with the baffled priest. She returned with Hans Moleman on one arm, and a disoriented hobo on the other.
"Here, they are good, right?"
"Ummm, Ah guess so. Alright, let us begin."
All eight children were Baptized. She cried with joy. Hans Moleman, the poor, senile, near-sighted old prune, said:
"Yes, it is wonderful. I sometimes cry at weddings too!"
"Ah, there you go. Most Baptizing' ah ever did in one day. Now, it is your duty as the godfather of these children, Mr…
"Pete," slurred the bum in response.
"Pete, to be an example of Christian fidelity and faith. And, should anything happen to both of their parents, to be willing to raise them in a loving, Christian household. Can you do that?"
"I'll try. You, know, this is a life hic a life changing thing for me, Father. I'm gonna straighten up, get off the hooch, and get a job! I'm gonna go to church, and steal myself a Bible, and and and everything!"
"There's a good lad."
"Father," said Manjula faintly, as she pulled him aside, "Where can I learn?"
"We have RCI classes every Thursday night at five thirty. Sister Francis teaches them. She's very kind."
"Thank you Father, thank you…"
"Manjula, today, by your very faith, you are a Catholic."
The warm yellow light faded. Father O'Flaherty was in front of his residence, hand on the icy doorknob. He shook his head. That was back in the cool, bright month of October. It was now early February. He unlocked the door and entered his meager dwelling. He closed the door behind himself and locked every one of the locks.
"God bless all here," he called out softly.
He set his hat on the table by the door. He went over to the small icon on the wall. He prayed, silently, with tightly clenched teeth and stinging eyes.