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I couldn't help myself, I really wanted to know what was inside. I opened to the first page.
There was page after page of hand written prayers and thoughts and pictures. I could tell that some of them were his own prayers, too. There were lots of quotes from saints and popes. I recognized some of the bible verses. The way he underlined and high-lighted different words made me look at them a little differently. As I skimmed through the book, I wondered how old it might be.Towards the end of the book I noticed he had starred this quote from Pope Benedict. "It is the blessed world of faith to which we are called, to walk without fear following the Lord Jesus Christ. And sometimes it is a difficult journey, one that even knows trial and death, but one that is open to life, in a radical transformation of reality that only the eyes of faith can see and enjoy in abundance." I had to read that a couple of times because I had no idea what it meant. How can reality be transformed by what only eyes of faith can see? "Eric are you okay?" my Mom asked. "Are you in the kitchen?"
I quickly closed the book. "Ya, I'm fine Mom. I just wanted to get some more ice for my head." I set the book back on top of the fridge and headed back for the couch.
"How's your head feeling?"
"Not great, but not any worse. Don't worry Mom, I'll be fine. You can go sleep in your bed. You don't have to stay out here with me."
"I want to be close so I can keep and eye on you. I was so worried about you today. I said a rosary for you while you were sleeping."
"Thanks Mom. You know what?"
"What?"
"How's your head feeling?"
"Not great, but not any worse. Don't worry Mom, I'll be fine. You can go sleep in your bed. You don't have to stay out here with me."
"I want to be close so I can keep and eye on you. I was so worried about you today. I said a rosary for you while you were sleeping."
"Thanks Mom. You know what?"
"What?"
"I'm starting to think God listens to your prayers."
My mom smiled, "I've never doubted it." Mom pulled the afghan back over me and kissed the top of my head. "I love you, Eric, get some rest."
"I love you too, Mom." I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.
The rest of the night I saw Father Jerry's prayer book go in and out of my dreams. At times it seemed to have a source of light coming from it. In my dreams I just kept carrying it around wherever I went. At one point in my dream it looked like I was lost in some kind of an underground tunnel and I kept yelling for someone to save me and they threw me the book instead. Oddly, once the book was back in my hands I easily climbed out of the tunnel.
The next morning I woke up to the sound and smell of bacon cooking. My mom smiled at me as I walked into the kitchen.
"How did you sleep?"
"Pretty good I guess, but I kept dreaming about Father Jerry's prayer book."
"You did? That's odd. Why would you dream about that?" Mom said with a puzzled face.
I wondered for a second-truth or lie, which should I choose?
My mom smiled, "I've never doubted it." Mom pulled the afghan back over me and kissed the top of my head. "I love you, Eric, get some rest."
"I love you too, Mom." I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.
The rest of the night I saw Father Jerry's prayer book go in and out of my dreams. At times it seemed to have a source of light coming from it. In my dreams I just kept carrying it around wherever I went. At one point in my dream it looked like I was lost in some kind of an underground tunnel and I kept yelling for someone to save me and they threw me the book instead. Oddly, once the book was back in my hands I easily climbed out of the tunnel.
The next morning I woke up to the sound and smell of bacon cooking. My mom smiled at me as I walked into the kitchen.
"How did you sleep?"
"Pretty good I guess, but I kept dreaming about Father Jerry's prayer book."
"You did? That's odd. Why would you dream about that?" Mom said with a puzzled face.
I wondered for a second-truth or lie, which should I choose?
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