Kyrie, eleison

A reckoning

I made the wreath for the front door with my own hands and an Advent wreath in time for the first Sunday in Advent and duly lit the first candle accompanied by prayer. I fulfilled my various community duties and attended pre-Christmas events, and did not forget to give to the poor. I did all the countless things that made it possible to bake mince pies and ginger biscuits—for gifts mostly—and purchase a few other gifts that are not in my power to make. I cooked a special meal for Christmas Eve. I wrote and posted some cards and I wrote a Christmas letter in which I mentioned your name, albeit only once dear God, my Father in Heaven, even though many who read that letter pay it no mind nor want to.


But Father, forgive me, for the things I did not do.
Father, forgive me, for not attending midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, and for not lighting a candle outside, symbolising the one True Light that came into the world and peace, goodwill among men. I did not organise the candles, but managed a small bit of one inside.
Father, forgive me, for not attending Mass on Christmas Day.
Father, forgive me, for not wanting to greet others and sing in celebration of your Birth, linked as it is to your death and Resurrection.
Father, forgive me, for indulging in silence and in solitude.
Father, forgive me, for gardening from early on Christmas morning until well past lunchtime; forgive me for doing precisely what I wanted to do. I cut grass and moved soil, and discovered, to my delight, a whole lot of worms in the process.
Father, forgive me, for postponing the necessary care of the human you have entrusted to me. I let her sleep until I had finished gardening. She did not know how late it was. Even so, I still have the nerve to ask for strength in the days ahead for these simple but inconvenient tasks. So, please give me strength when I have none.
Thank you, Father, for all the worms in the soil. That was a great gift.
Thank you also, Father, for the family and friends I spoke with in the afternoon on this, your day.
Oh, and forgive me, Father, for doing a load of laundry in between times.
Mainly, I am grateful for the abundant worms.
Kyrie, eleison.

©2016 Allison Wright

3 thoughts on “Kyrie, eleison

Add yours

  1. It has just occurred to me that were I to treat my friends as harshly as I treat myself, I might not have quite so many friends.
    I am glad I have a friend across the miles who does not mind being mentioned in the same paragraph as worms and laundry.

    Liked by 1 person

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