Confirmation Report
Apr. 11th, 2008 03:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hobgoblinnSo, last night, 11 youngsters from a couple of local parishes were confirmed by our bishop. For his homily, the bishop, a kindly, avuncular man, came over to the side where the kids were in the front couple of rows and began to ask them questions. Simple ones on stuff they've been studying about the sacrament, the readings they'd just heard.
Most of the kids just stared up at him blankly, or in some kind of shy, speechless awe.
Not mine, of course.
The only other kid who answered any questions at all was from our Cathedral parish, too. At one point, the bishop joked it looked like he was only going to confirm two people tonight. Then after answering a question correctly about the "tongues of fire" on Pentecost, Wee Hob asked if the people were Really on fire, and the bishop teasingly revised his estimate down to one.
So the Bishop was proud of one of his own, and Wee Hob's sponsor, Miss Emma, was beside herself with pride. As was his mom.
The Good Monsignor -- sigh. I won't rant about his behavior, both the rolling of his eyes we both (Wee hob and I) saw during different points of the service, nor the way he spoke to us a little as possible and offered no particular congratulations to any of us, (though he did compliment Miss Emma on her hat), nor how he did not even look at me directly when he spoke at all to us at the reception. I tried to tell Wee Hob that perhaps he wasn't feeling well-- I was actually getting concerned for the Good Monsignor during the service, as he seemed to be very distracted and looked a little pale. But I dearly wanted to smack him upside his most reverend head by the end of the night.
Guess I better f-lock this post, huh? I get that Wee Hob done wrong. But last night, he done Right. I wouldn't expect him to offer the lad the keys to the church, or even the kingdom, but a pat on the head, a "well done, keep up the good work, glad to see you're getting straightened out" would not have gone amiss, would it?
In other news, I'm on the cusp of needing bifocals. So I broke down and ordered no line bifocals. I'm worried now, though, how I'll navigate the typing issue, because-- dude. I don't touch type. I glance down all the time as I'm going, and over the years I've gotten very fast and good at it. Be interesting to see how I'll adapt to the different focal areas of the new lenses. I like my new frames, anyway, larger and more round and most definitely Not the trendy rectangular shapes currently in vogue.
I deserve some mockery, I guess-- I teased a local friend about this a few years ago, and she's a good deal older than I. My mom says she went to bifocals about my age, though. Guess I should call my friend and let her get a little of her own back, eh?
Holy crap. Lightning. Maybe I should go pick wee hob up at school after all.
Most of the kids just stared up at him blankly, or in some kind of shy, speechless awe.
Not mine, of course.
The only other kid who answered any questions at all was from our Cathedral parish, too. At one point, the bishop joked it looked like he was only going to confirm two people tonight. Then after answering a question correctly about the "tongues of fire" on Pentecost, Wee Hob asked if the people were Really on fire, and the bishop teasingly revised his estimate down to one.
So the Bishop was proud of one of his own, and Wee Hob's sponsor, Miss Emma, was beside herself with pride. As was his mom.
The Good Monsignor -- sigh. I won't rant about his behavior, both the rolling of his eyes we both (Wee hob and I) saw during different points of the service, nor the way he spoke to us a little as possible and offered no particular congratulations to any of us, (though he did compliment Miss Emma on her hat), nor how he did not even look at me directly when he spoke at all to us at the reception. I tried to tell Wee Hob that perhaps he wasn't feeling well-- I was actually getting concerned for the Good Monsignor during the service, as he seemed to be very distracted and looked a little pale. But I dearly wanted to smack him upside his most reverend head by the end of the night.
Guess I better f-lock this post, huh? I get that Wee Hob done wrong. But last night, he done Right. I wouldn't expect him to offer the lad the keys to the church, or even the kingdom, but a pat on the head, a "well done, keep up the good work, glad to see you're getting straightened out" would not have gone amiss, would it?
In other news, I'm on the cusp of needing bifocals. So I broke down and ordered no line bifocals. I'm worried now, though, how I'll navigate the typing issue, because-- dude. I don't touch type. I glance down all the time as I'm going, and over the years I've gotten very fast and good at it. Be interesting to see how I'll adapt to the different focal areas of the new lenses. I like my new frames, anyway, larger and more round and most definitely Not the trendy rectangular shapes currently in vogue.
I deserve some mockery, I guess-- I teased a local friend about this a few years ago, and she's a good deal older than I. My mom says she went to bifocals about my age, though. Guess I should call my friend and let her get a little of her own back, eh?
Holy crap. Lightning. Maybe I should go pick wee hob up at school after all.
