Monday, April 18, 2011

The Neighborhood (continued)

Altar Boy

Father Haggerty, a Maryknoll priest, attempted to teach me Latin.  He gave me the prayer book so I could practice the words.  The first response began “Intro ibo ad altare dei…”   It took me a while to remember all the words but eventually I learned.  I served my first Mass at Immaculate Conception when I was in Fifth Grade.

Our house was minutes away from the Church so the walk was easy.  Living close posed a disadvantage.   The nuns frequently assigned me the 6:30 a.m. Mass.   Winters were especially difficult.   I’d hurry through the dark, solitude of snow-laden streets to light the candles, fill the crucibles with water and wine and prepare the altar. 

Mass ended, I scurried home for a quick breakfast before returning to school.   The worst part of living nearby occurred in summer when the nuns assigned me to serve each week including Sunday’s Benediction.  The scheduling impinged on vacation.

Mom and dad hosted holiday dinners for our family, new Filipino arrivals and Manongs.  They always invited a priest or two.   Mom baked turkey or fried chicken, ham, rice, mashed potatoes and peas.   Her meals always included one or two Fllipino delicacies like adobo or pancit.  She’d prepare her fabulous apple and pumpkin pie for desert or she’d make leche flan.

Dad provided the liquor. They drank crème de mint and Manischewitz wine. Pretty awful stuff in retrospect.  But, not nearly as awful as the altar wine.  Most of us chugged a sip or two when the priest left. 

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