Thomas mounted Missy, his leg protesting. As summer turned into fall and the days got shorter, he had been riding for short distances, testing his stamina. The long journey back to the sweet spot would tax his still-healing leg, but it couldn’t be helped. The time had come.
Aidan and the monks stood waiting. They insisted on seeing him off, much to Thomas’ dismay. He didn’t want a long goodbye. Aidan prayed the journeying prayer over him and gave him his blessing.
A lump formed in Thomas’ throat as he thought about all that this small community meant to him, and all that they meant for the future. They were not perfect, far from it, but they were faithful. And perhaps that made the difference.
Aidan stepped forward, his hand raised in blessing. “Thomas, me son. Go with God’s blessing a
