The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1920-03-13
wonder that the priest sat sad and

shaken by the sound of the door-tell.
SO absorbed had he been that he had
not heard the sound of footsteps on
the porch. Mechanically smoothing
his hair as best he could, and arrang-
ing his cassock, he tried to remove the
signs of his agitation while he hurried
to the door
Upon opening the door there stood
before him tall, gaunt man of about
thirty years of age, clad in rough
| overalls and blue working shirt, open
at the neck. His countenance bore
the traces of hard work, but he was
clean shaven and his hair neatly
| combed; on the whole there was
something winning about his appear
ance, especially his eyes, which were
large and frank as those of a boy.
The man stood a moment seemingly
embarrassed, with his cap held re-
specially in his hand and then re-
assured by the priests smile of well
| come, he spoke.
"Father,' ne said, Il don't like to
trouble you, but please will you give
| me Holy Communion
Father Heating was astonished at
the request, and exclaimed:
why, my good man, you cannot
receive Holy Communion at this time
| of day; you have to be fasting from
| midnight when you receive Our Lord
Il know. Father" the man replied
half alphabetically, "but have tasted
WHAT cried the priest. You do
not mean to tell me that you have
| had nothing to eat today? Why, it's
| half past twelve"
| Eyes, Father and the mans eyes
dropped modestly as he began to ex
| plain. You see, | am a trainman;
have freight run between here and
| Milford. We expected to get into Ash.
| ton early this morning but some
| trouble with the engine made delay
| and so we Lad to go on a siding for
three-hour wait. l wouldn't want to
miss Communion today. Will you
| please hear my Confession"
| He said this with all the simplicity
of a child and appeared to be a lit
| tie abashed. when he glanced up and
| noted the ill-concealed admiration in
| the priests eyes.
| May God reward you, my good
| man. was Father keating's earnest
comment. would that we had more
men of your stamp. This sacrifice will
not so unrewarded. Mark my words
"Oh, it's nothing" the other re
| piled. Il only wanted to keep my
promise. You sec it's this way:
| When | was q youngStor and had
made my first Confession, my mother
made me promise that would never
miss going to Communion on First
Friday, if | could help it. l didn't
want to miss today
Never missed a First Friday. Well
| we'll! thank God for that. Then
| Father Heating added: Go over tC
the church and | shall be there al
once. God bless you, God bless you.
| When the priest entered the church
| shortly afterward he was impressed
| by the special atmosphere of rever
! ence that seemed to pervade the
! place. The cool interior was but dimly
lighted by the sun as it fell upon the
! door with soft radiance. Whether il
| was the occasion of the visit, or the
happenings of the morning. or on &C
| count of some interior workings OF
grace, Father Heating could not tell
| but he was conscious of a great con
ISOLATION and vivid sense OF the Rea1
Presence, which he had never felt tC
| the same overwhelming extent before
He heard the mans Confession and
then. vested in surplice and stole, as
cended the altar steps, lit candle on
either side OF the tabernacle and took
out the ciborium. Meanwhile the
communicate had approached the
altar rail and was kneeling in devout
anticipation.
'Domine. non sum Dignus,' the
| priest thrice repeated, holding small
white host over the ciborium. A great
feeling of his own unworthiness took
possession of him, in the light Of this
poor mans simple and sacrificing
| faith. and he could hardly keep back
| the tears when he placed the Sacred
Host upon his tongue, observing his
manly devotion.
Some fifteen minutes passed by
while the priest and his solitary com
panion kept vigil on Bonded knees be
fore the King of Kings. And all thai
| time nothing broke the silence of theil
| prayers. Finally tip-toed step dOwr
the asile, a momentary food of light
as the door opened and the sound Of
| the latch catching as the door was
gently closed again told Father Keat
| ing that he was alone. He yet re
manned praying. Only God knows
what his prayer was. Was the mem
DRY of the mornings untitled petition
stirl weighing heavy upon his heart
| Was he yet asking for a souls reward
If anyone were present he might have
| caught the soft-spoken words: Gods
| will be done!' repeated over and ovel
| again. Whatever may have been the
| silent communing, at any rate cOnsola
ton must have come to him, for ris
ing, his step was lighter and his ali
| more buoyant as he left the churcl
| and returned to the rectory.
His luncheon over, he sat down tt
write the Sundays instruction, tn,
theme of which was Gods Providence
the application would be only TOT
evident to the parishioners. Thus
some time elapsed. He paused ;
l 81 CT nj