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[11] B ef o re the A ir B ecame the J o urney It is Good Friday and I am seven. I don’t understand the priest who speaks in Latin or in Polish, but I like the hopeful smell of candles burning. Inching forward on our knees, we sway and shuffle towards the giant crucifix propped at the railing. The men’s heads are bare. The women wear babushkas. Everywhere I look there are soles of shoes. My turn. I stand and stretch to reach the bleeding instep. An altar boy wipes away my kiss with a white handkerchief. I bow my head to imitate the old man who on Sundays stays for all the Masses, locked in place at the altar rail, face buried in his hands, hunched over and sad as if, like me, he’d done everything wrong. [12] Someone like him, I think, could stop the nails from going in. ...

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Additional Information

ISBN
9780874217971
Related ISBN
9780874217964
MARC Record
OCLC
650341890
Pages
93
Launched on MUSE
2012-01-01
Language
English
Open Access
No
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