INTERNSHIP: A Priestly Encounter

Today, I was blessed by a priest in a parking lot.

Overcome with my meeting with Father Dahm, I sat in the schoolyard of San Pius V. My butt was warmed by the sun-drenched asphalt, my back leaned against a pole in the chain link fence and my fingers flew across they key board when a round, portly man with a cane and a balding, head moved slowly in through a gap in the fence.

“Why, hello,” he said, voice gravelly. “Are you a student here? Or… no… a teacher?”

Oh, I’m a college student, I said, scrambling to my feet. Let me introduce myself.

Oh—you don’t have to do that, but I was up already, extending a hand. I’m Brenna, I said.

“Oh, he said. Oh. Well, i-- I am one of the the elder fathers here, he said. I am a Dominican priest. One of the old ones, about eighty-one, so you know, nearing my time, he said. His eyes wandered.

Do you like school?

I said, yes, indeed, I did I liked being a journalism major because I got to talk to people.

Oh yes, he said. You keep up on things.

Yes, I said. Have you been here long—what do you notice about here?

Well, let me tell you. I once did something. I was a teacher for many years here, see, and I once said to another Father, at one of the dinners—Well, what else can I do? I’m a priest. I didn’t mean it that way, of course, but that’s… wel, anyway, that’s what I am. And he said—well, why don’t you do hospital work. And so you know, for eighteen years now, I have been the chaplain at Holy Cross Hospital right over there. You see everything. Which, for a prieset is good. You need a little bit of reality—of real humanity—not just intellectual material. Not to be morbid or anything, but you need that reality, that human suffering. Makes you thankful for what you are, what you have. For me, I am a Dominican priest. Makes you thankful, that humanity. And so I did that for eighteen years.

“If you write a thesis one day, include that and, don’t cite me by name—I don’t mean anything by that—I’m Father Morris—but say, say I met this Dominican Father once. It’s something to carry with you. He paused.

Here, I’ll bless you. He made a cross on my forehead while I stood awkwardly, hoping not to break any rules, and then slowly walked away, disappearing as magically as he appeared.