We slipped in, late and unexpected.
Standing in the back, so as not to draw attention. They noticed anyway. When there are only 12 and you add 4, you get noticed.
“Will it be rude to go in so late? Shouldn’t we just rather stay outside?” queried my son, ever the one who strives to do what is right and just.
I was hungry. Having played hookie from the morning service and to find ourselves here so close to the feast, I could not resist.
The priest smiled and beckoned us closer to the group, not content to let us hang on the fringe.
Like a child who’s spent the day in play, I rushed in for the meal, only to rush out again. Dirty, besmirched, yet hungry all the same.
The blessing was pressed gently into my hand and the words were intoned as we looked eye-to-eye. No judgement, nothing but a gentle smile of peace.
Sated. Full. Content.