Creative Writing: Saint Ann Catholic Church

I sit in concentrated silence, watching the vulnerable middle-aged man sitting to the left of me. He wears an old white t-shirt that is stained to a cream-color with heavy shorts and worn-in black tennis shoes. We meet alone in the Ministry Office’s conference room that faces Jefferson Davis Highway. His large dark-skinned figure, a silhouette from the late July sun pouring in behind him, sits patiently. As I take notes on my yellow notepad, he speaks of his great losses over the past few years, but more specifically over the past two weeks. Suddenly, his voice cracks. I look up wearily as his sandpaper hands attempt to conceal the tears grazing his dark cheeks.
***
Three months prior, I stand in front of my family in Saint Ann Catholic Church as an official confirmed adult. Friends and family surround me with support and love as we leave the sanctuary for the celebration. Once inside the vestibule, the foyer leading to the exit, I see a woman approaching me by the name of Pat. Her round figure forces her to slightly waddle when she walks and her curly, cotton-ball-like hair tells me that she is a talker. After rambling on for a moment, she congratulates me on my commitment and asks if I would be interested in working with the church that summer.

He says you have a great deal of experience interning and we would love to have your help this summer in our office!”
At the time, my mind was preoccupied with the thought of food and celebration so I responded to Pat saying I would contact the Pastoral Associate. I did not plan on interning that upcoming summer; therefore, the internship with my church was at the bottom of my