AN IRRESISTIBLE SIN

Bim bam. The sound echoed repeatedly in the distance. Not surprisingly, it was six o’clock, and since today was Thursday, it was probably Father Étienne ringing the bells to announce the hour of Lauds. I’d been awake since five and ready for fifteen minutes. I’d been waiting for this moment. This week, it was Father Ambroise in charge of Lauds, so I always made sure to get up early, to be on time and properly prepared. He is my spiritual father. He’s also the one who administered all my sacraments, from baptism to confirmation back when I was in the orphanage. And it is to him that I usually go for confession. He’s very kind. But that’s not the only reason I wake up early to be on time. Besides the admiration I have for him and my desire to leave a good impression, there’s also the fact that I love hearing him chant the psalms and hymns. He has a beautiful voice, and more than anything, his teachings are full of wisdom. He knows how to make us long for heaven, because what is more precious than heaven? Nothing. Everything we have on this earth is fleeting, and as he often says, our life on earth is a test we must pass to gain access to heaven. And I intend to go and to bring as many souls with me as I can. One day, I hope to be consecrated as a Sister of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It’s the same congregation Father Ambroise belongs to, and deep down, I pray that I won’t be sent too far from him. He is a model to me, and my admiration for him is rivaled only by my faith in God. He is so good, so devout. I hope he will be canonized after his death, for he truly deserves sainthood. - Sister Kiria, are you ready? Ask Solène, my roommate or co-chambermaid, if you prefer. She’s a postulant and arrived here a year ago. I’m in my fourth year; I’m supposed to take my temporary vows in less than six months, so I’m her senior. It feels nice, being considered someone’s elder and being respected for it. At the orphanage, up until my final year, I was considered nothing a reject. No one wanted to be my friend, no one respected me. If you weren’t the one torturing others, you were the one being tortured. I chose to endure the pain, because doing harm to others is forbidden by the Holy Scriptures. Today, I’ve forgiven them all, all who ever hurt me. I even had to confess for the times I’d thought ill of them, for how many times have we offended God? And yet in His great mercy, He forgave us. So I must forgive those who offend me, just as He asked of us. - Yes, Solène, I’m ready. Let’s go, I said, getting out of bed. I grabbed my Bible and adjusted my veil. After prayer and the religious offices, I approached Father Ambroise to greet him. I hadn’t been able to do so since the beginning of the week. - Sister Kiria, how are you? - I’m well, Father, thank you. And you? - I’m well, by the grace of God. I’ve seen you all week, but you haven’t come to greet me. - I’m sorry, Father, I said, ashamed. I didn’t want to disturb you. With Father Ambroise, I was always calculating everything. I wasn’t like that with the others. I tried to restrain myself from doing too much. I didn’t know why; it just came naturally. Maybe it was my desire to impress him, or maybe it was just my admiration. I had no idea. - You never disturb me, my child. Besides, Lent is approaching prayer, sharing, and penance. Do you feel ready for this important time in Christian life? - Yes, Father. I’ll go to confession before next Wednesday to be in the right spirit. - You can come see me after Mass on Sunday, and I’ll hear your confession. I also wanted to speak with you to inform you that this is my last week at the parish. Monday, I’ll be flying to Mozambique. I’ll be on a mission there for two years. Two years? I thought. That was far too long. - But Father, I’m taking my temporary vows on June 5th. I thought it would be you… I began, unable to finish. I was thrown off. He had always been there. Every major step of my religious life has involved him. And now, at such a crucial moment, he was leaving for two years? I felt abandoned just as my parents had abandoned me, just as my brother had. - I know, Sister Kiria. I’ll try to come back for your consecration. You know I care deeply about you, he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. And I felt proud. So, he cared about me as much as I cared about him? - You know we don’t turn down God’s call, he added. Besides, Mozambique is my homeland. I was born and raised there before returning to my country of origin for seminary. So I’m happy to go back to my people. - I understand, Father. - That’s good, my child, he said, now placing his hand on my head. After confession on Sunday, come have lunch with me. We’ll spend the day together at the presbytery. I looked at him, eyes shining. - Father Ambroise, called a voice from afar. We both turned and saw the Mother Superior. Father Ambroise stepped away from me and walked a few paces toward her. - I was looking for you, she said as she reached him. - I was speaking with Sister Kiria about my departure. - I figured that was the topic. She’s your little protégée, she said. And I felt myself stand a little taller. - Sister Kiria, go join the others in the refectory. Time is passing, and soon it will be time for our daily meditations and readings. - Yes, Sister. See you soon, Father, I said, bowing before hurrying off to the refectory, my heart beating with both joy and sorrow. But God would bring me peace, I thought. The end of the week was difficult. How can I explain that I was torn between wanting Sunday to come quickly and wishing it would never arrive? Yes, I longed for that day as much as I dreaded it. And no, in case you’re wondering, I’m not crazy. I just love spending time with Father Ambroise. But this Sunday also meant I wouldn’t see him again for far too long. I had been awake far too long. It must have been around 4 a.m. I kept tossing and turning, pleading for the morning to come. Today was Sunday, the last Sunday of Ordinary Time before Lent, but also, my Sunday. - Sister Kiria, are you awake? Solène asked from the top bunk. - No, Solène. And apparently, neither are you. - I was sleeping, but the noise you’re making with your blanket woke me up, she said softly. - Oh, sorry. I’ll try to be quieter, I replied, shifting to a more comfortable position. After a moment of silence, she spoke again: - This week, our group is in charge of the kitchen. Sister Emerance told me yesterday that the three of us will go shopping after breakfast, after Mass.” - That won’t be possible. "I’m spending the day with Father Ambroise at the presbytery. She sat up abruptly, leaning her head down to look at me. - Just the two of you? - I don’t know. -Avoid being alone with him. - And why is that? - There are rumors, Sister Kiria. - Rumors? What kind? I asked, curious. - Do you remember Sister Lorette, who was expelled from the convent three months ago? - Yes. The reason for her dismissal was never disclosed, but she said she had done something serious to be sent away at that point. She was quite far along in her formation. Lorette and I weren’t close—actually, aside from Solène, I’m not close to anyone here. Just like in the orphanage, I have no friends. No one ever wanted to be my friend. No one ever wanted to adopt me, just like my own brother didn’t want custody of me. - They say she accused Father Ambroise of r**e. - Sweet Jesus! Solène! Where did you hear such accusations? I exclaimed, jumping out of bed to look at her. She looked back at me, as if trying to gauge whether I was angry. But I never really knew how to be angry. What I felt inside as rage or fury, others often perceived as mere discomfort or confusion. I was naturally very gentle, perhaps too gentle, sometimes.