Chapter 27
Eduardo
Kneeling on the bench in the chapel, I finished praying, “. . . on earth as it is in Heaven. Amen.”
Leaning back, I rested my butt on the seat and stared up at the stained glass window over the altar.
It was beautiful. Everything about this church was beautiful.
Soon it would be Easter and scores of children would march down the aisle on the big day, bringing small bouquets of flowers from the garden. The acolytes and lay readers would then place them in a seven-foot-tall wooden cross that would stand in the middle of the church. A variety of colors cobbled together to create a tribute to the risen Lord. A delight to behold.
Easter had always been my favorite church holiday, even more so since I’d become a priest.
But with the vestry up in arms, their leader doing
