Construction 101 - Cassidy Shay (free novels TXT) 📗

Parts of this song, which praises God in all His glory, are sung (or spoken) in Latin, and one part sounds like my sister’s name. After singing our praise to Him, we bow our heads for the opening prayer, and then sit down for the first reading.

“A reading from the book of the prophet Isaiah,” says the reader. The first reading is not always from Isaiah, but always from the Old Testament. After the dark haired woman has finished with the reading, she says, “This is the Word of the Lord.”

We reply with “Thanks be to God,” then sing along with the responsorial psalm. Following this, the woman goes back to the altar for the second reading, from the New Testament.

The reading of the gospels comes after the second reading. It is the priest who reads from the gospel, instead of an ordinary member of the parish. “The Lord be with you,” he says.

“And also with you.”

“A reading from the holy gospel according to John.”

“Glory to you, Lord.” The priest then reads from the red Bible. After that, in a single voice, the congregation says, “Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.”

The priest closes the Bible, puts it underneath the podium. He steps down from the altar, stands in the space in front of the pews. He begins the homily, his sermon. This is the chance for the priest to express his feelings on the readings, or current events if they are relative the day’s lesson. This is the chance for the people to reflect on the readings as well.

We remain seated for the Profession of Faith, which comes after the homily. It is another prayer that we’ve been taught since early childhood, the Nicene Creed. “We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.” The Creed, a more detailed version of the Apostle’s Creed, continues by saying that we believe that Jesus is one is being with the Father, that he came from heaven for us men and for our salvation. He was crucified, died, and was buried, then rose again in fulfillment of the scriptures. The creed mentions the second coming, where Jesus will judge the living and the dead, and the Holy Spirit makes an appearance in the prayer as well. “We believe in one Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church. We acknowledge one baptism and the forgiveness of sins. We look forward to the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. Amen.”

The priest looks to the group assembled before him, opens up the floor to prayers. People chime in with things that they want to pray for, asking the community to pray that their husband’s third fight with cancer is successful, or that their son in the military comes home safe and sound. After each one, we reply, “Lord, hear our prayer.”

The priest begins his preparation of the host as the collection basket is passed around. He washes his hands, then addresses the parish with a familiar prayer, but one that I have never memorized, as it’s not for me to recite. Our reply, however, has been memorized since before I can remember. “May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands, for the praise and glory of His name, for our good and the good of all His church.” We stand as the priest prays over the gifts, to which we reply, “Amen.”

“The Lord be with you,” the priest says, beginning the Eucharistic Prayer.

“And also with you.”

“Lift up your hearts.”

“We lift them up to the Lord.” Our hands, open palms facing up, are raised above shoulder level as we say this familiar line.

“Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God.”

“It is right and just.” The priest says something else, then we all sing, “Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might. Heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest.” We pull out the kneelers from under the pew in front of us, then kneel as the priest says another prayer that, over the years, has become so familiar.

Father then begins the consecration, which includes a retelling of the last supper, and the mystery of faith. Another group of sentences and words strung together and repeated every Sunday, and then a small group of words that, even though I’m not required to say it, I mumble along with the priest. “Through him, with him, in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, Almighty God, forever and ever. Amen.” We stand and join hands for the Lord’s Prayer.

“Lord Jesus Christ, you said to your apostles: I leave you peace, my peace I give you. Look not on our sins, but on the faith of your Church, and grant us peace and unity of your kingdom, where you live forever and ever,” recited the priest. “The peace of the Lord be with you always.”

“And also with you.”

“Let us offer each other the sign of peace.” We turn to our neighbors, our family and friends who share in our beliefs. We shake hands with some, hug the ones that we are closest to. We help the small children shake hands with the adults, smile and say, “Peace be with you” to each person.

When the rustling of skin and clothing has stopped, we say, “Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world: have mercy on us. Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world: have mercy on us. Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world. Grant us peace.” Once again, we kneel before the altar.

The priest recited another part of the Mass. As one, the congregation says, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” The front pews empty of people as the parish gets ready for, in my opinion, the best part of the celebration.

My stomach feels empty, my mouth as dry as a desert. I step out from the pew and into the line, eager to receive Jesus.

The bowl of wafers and the cup of wine have been miraculously transformed into the body and blood of Christ. Although the same in appearance, smell, and taste, they are no longer simple wafers and wine. This is it, the thing that makes me complete in my relationship with God. This is when Jesus is here on earth, right in front of me, right in my hands.

“The body of Christ,” says Father.

“Amen.” He places a round disk in my open palm, then I place it on my tongue. I go to my left, where I see a familiar face behind the cup of wine that has been turned into blood.

“The blood of Christ.”

“Amen.” I go back to my pew, my extreme hunger and thirst gone. I kneel down to pray, to thank God for everything he’s given me, while another song plays.

After the last notes of the song have ended and everyone has received communion, the priest asks us to stand. “Let us pray.” He says a prayer, the last one of the day. He once again opens up the floor, this time for announcements instead of prayers. After each person has spoken, the priest opens his arms. “The Lord be with you.”

“And also with you.”

“May almighty God bless you, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” He makes a cross in the air.

“Amen.

“This Mass is ended, go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

“Thanks be to God.” We watch as my brother grabs his crucifix once more for the day, and leads Father to the back of the church, where he will be waiting to shake hands and talk to the people of the congregation. We follow, out into the parking lot, where we visit for at least half an hour before we go home, or go out for lunch.

I look around at my entire family. They are not all related to me, but in our small parish, I feel comfortable around all of them. I smile in the sunlight. This is home.

A Barbecue

When you think of a barbecue, you usually think of happy, sunny evenings with the smell of hamburgers and hot dogs and you're with your friends and everyone's laughing and having a good time, the adults all have a couple beers, and it's just a lot of fun. Right?

Up until a couple months ago, this was my idea of a barbecue. But then we went to a barbecue at my dad's friend's apartment. And it was definitely NOT the typical scene. Well, not from my point of view, anyway.

As I was at the barbecue, I was texting my best friend (who actually makes an appearance in the story), Juniper Lee, and she said that I should write a story about it. So I decided that I would. I also told her that I would title it "The Clowns Who Couldn't Cut it in a Real Circus So They Made Their Own." So here's my story about the clowns. I never actually edited it, and it's definitely not my best. But here it is anyway. It's kinda fun, I guess.

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It started as a normal day. The Chit-lins were playing, making a mess of the apartment just like they always did. Then, The Dad Who Was in His Forties But Hung Out With People in Their Twenties announced that they were going to a barbecue.

This should be interesting,

thought The Daughter With Long Hair and Blue Eyes. The family got ready, then walked across the four-lane street to the other apartment complex.

First, they were introduced to The Woman Who Liked Her Huskies More Than Her Boyfriend. Next was The Boyfriend Who Came in Second Behind the Dogs, and The "Neighbor" Who Lived Nowhere Near Paradise Valley.

As more people started to arrive, The Woman Who Liked Her Huskies More That Her Boyfriend moved the barbecue outside. This is where The Daughter With Long Hair and Blue Eyes discovered that these people were not regular people at all- they were The Clowns Who Couldn't Cut it in a Real Circus So They Made Their Own.

Congregated around the small grill was The Lady Who Kept Going Inside To Refill Her Margarita, who kept talking to The Guy With the Strange Accent That Couldn't Be Placed.

Then, there were the brothers. The Daughter With Long Hair and Blue Eyes didn't know if they really were brothers or not, but they looked alike. The first brother was The One Who's