i didn't think i'd come up with an idea for the five plus two's religion theme this week. however, i made a comment on
@megstorey's beautiful portrait last night about how, in high school, we were required to make confessions almost every week and i'd make up sins to confess. i mean, how many pencils or ball pen can you covet in a week? and that sparked an idea.
i was brought up catholic by my parents. my mother was a staunch believer, my father, well, he wasn't keen on religion but he deferred to my mother on that aspect of rearing their children. my mother, mind you, prayed the rosary every night. and that was after she had joined us with our nightly prayers. she prayed to all the saints, especially those with specialties, like st. Christopher, the Nazarene, the mother of perpetual help, etc. except for santa claus, and that was the only saint i was keen on praying to because as a child i had this belief that he was loaded with presents.
in any case, my mother's oldest sister when she was still in school, a catholic school, had a bad experience with regard to confession. every week the whole class had to go and make confession so they could attend communion at sunday mass. the last time she went, apparently, the priest asked her if she washed her...aherm...you know, hygiene, down there. she said yes. every night? yes, father, every night. so you touch yourself? yes, father. do you like it? no, father. do you put your finger inside? at this point auntie got suspicious, especially that the confessional was starting to move back and forth. heck it was a sin to peek through the window to look at the priest, yet, she did. and guess what the priest was doing? auntie was so pissed she punched the window and hit the priest's left jaw. well, she got slapped with 10 "hail Mary's" and 5 "our father" for that, what do you know? and people believed that that must've been the reason she became a lesbian. i once asked her what she saw, but she very adeptly evaded the topic.
next time, i'll tell you about my mother's own experience at the confessional and maybe i'll tell you the sins i confessed to the priest by reading a salacious book.
i should write a book about religion, n'est-ce pas?
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the photograph is really beautiful,
the story is very real and powerful, as usual
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