Leap of Faith - Cassidy Shay (children's ebooks free online txt) 📗

her up as well. "Sorry," I say to her. "But I have to take you home. I have to get to the station."
    She nods and rubs her eyes. "That's okay," she says. "It's probably time for me to go home anyway, since I didn't tell my mom when I'd be back or where I'd be going."
    We head out to my car, and I take her home. When we get to her driveway, she leans across the center console. "I love you," she says again, louder this time than it was earlier. I love the sound of that. She has a smile on her face, and her eyes are brighter than I've seen them in a long time. 
    "I love you too," I answer back. She closes the few inches in between us and kisses me good-bye. Long before I'm ready, she ends the kiss. 
     "Have a good rest of your day," she says, and then gets out. I wait until she gets into the house before I drive away.

Over the next couple months, I spend a lot of time at church. Accepting the fact that my parents are getting a divorce is hard, especially because I keep having to explain myself. Even spending time with Amia, even though I love her, can be exhausting. One night when I’m at her house, she asks me how I'm doing. "I'm worried about you," she says, running her fingers through my hair. "You're taking this way harder than anyone I know. Divorce happens, Mikey. I know it's hard, but it's not the end of the world. I'm worried that you think it is."

"Well, it's different for me," I said. "My parents weren't just married by law. Marriage in the Church is a sacrament, and sacraments can't just be undone like that." I sigh. "It's like... when you're married in the Church, it's a commitment to your spouse, but also to God and the congregation. It's a promise, and they just broke that promise. They let down the entire Church body." 

I can tell by her face that she doesn't quite understand. "I know that it seems like they're letting the whole world down. And I'm not trying to justify their divorce, because it's completely tearing apart your family. But out of all the people who I've seen go through a divorce, or a parents' divorce, you're the one who's the most beat up about it. And it worries me. They're not letting the entire world down, just themselves and you. But you're strong. You'll get through this. It's not like they're suddenly terrible people. They're still your parents, and they still love you. They're still the same people they've always been."

I shake my head a little. "But they're not the same. In marriage, you become one. You become one and you can’t just go back to being two separate people again.”

She frowns. "Well... but when you get married, you don't actually become one. That's just something people say. It's not like you morph into one person. They still have separate bodies, personalities, genes, all that stuff. They’re not the same person."

"Well, not physically," I say, trying not to get annoyed. "But spiritually, you are one. And you can't just break apart. And my parents, of all people, should know this. They know that it's not that easy."

She scoots away from me a little bit and takes my hand in both of hers. "Mikey, everything's going to be okay. Okay?" I give her a small nod. "You will get through this. Your parents aren't betraying you, or betraying God, or betraying each other. They just changed. They aren't the same people anymore, and they don't love each other anymore. But it will be okay." 

I feel my face getting hot again. Why can’t she accept that we have different views on this? Why can’t she understand that this is a big deal to me, a bigger deal than it was to her when her parents split up? “Of course you wouldn’t understand,” I snap at her.

She pulls away from me. “Excuse me? Of course I wouldn’t understand? Why? Because I’m not part of your perfect little religion with its perfect people? Because I didn’t get all the way until my senior year of high school, when it’s only going to matter for a few more months, before my parents decided to get a divorce? That in my experience, marriage doesn’t mean anything because you can still walk out on someone just as easily? I wouldn’t understand because my family’s not perfect, my life isn’t perfect. So excuse me for not thinking that your parents getting a divorce is the end of the world.”

She starts to get up, and I say, “Amia, you know that that’s not what I meant.” I feel all the muscles in my body tense up. “We believe different things about marriage. And I’ve lived eighteen years believing that my parents are outstanding examples of what a real marriage looks like. I apologize for not just accepting that and throwing my parents a party. Excuse me for being upset when everything I thought I knew bursts into flames.” Sarcasm drips from my words, and I’m practically yelling.

She shakes her head, and looks like she’s about to cry. “This is not the end of the world, Mikey. You don’t think all this was hard for me to go through? Funerals and doctor appointments and not being able to hear. Can you imagine being six years old, all excited to grow up and have independence and experience all these great things, and then have doctors tell you that there’s a huge part of those experiences that you’ll never have again? I did think the world was going to end. I couldn’t hear, so what was even the point? And then my dad left. And I knew, I was certain, that that was the end.”

She takes a deep breath. “But it wasn’t. Life goes on, Mikey. Life always goes on. You’ve had a pretty damn painless life so far.”

She gets up off the couch and heads for her bedroom, but then stops to turn around. “And I’m sick of you yelling at me and getting mad at me for trying to help you. If you want to yell, yell at your parents. They’re the ones that are doing this to you, not me. So stop taking it out on me.”

I watch as she walks up the stairs and into her room, and then I let myself out. On the way home, I think about everything that she said.

And on one hand, she's right. They aren't doing this to hurt me, to turn their backs to me. Plus, I need to man up a little bit. It's not the end of the world. And it's not like they suddenly hate each other. Right?

When you spend your whole life with the perfect family, and then one day it's broken, and you have no explanation, though, it's hard. Especially when you've been raised to believe that, in the context of the true meaning of marriage, divorce can't really exist. 

But it's hard to explain that to people. So most of the time, I just don't. I spend most of my free time either in Adoration or talking to Father. Because he understands. 

As I spend more time with Father, I get a couple extra volunteer opportunities. I go with him to visit people on the outside of town, especially the older members of the parish who can't make it to mass that often. I go with him to the hospital, talk to the elderly there as well. While at the hospital, I also listen to Father speak to sick children and their families, and it brings me an unfamiliar feeling. 

As I trail behind Father, watching him perform his various duties, I can't help but feel at peace and at home. Like my problems don't matter anymore. Because, yeah, my parents might be getting a divorce. But this family has a six-year-old who just died from cancer. And this couple has been trying for years to have children, with no results. The list goes on of people who are going through extremely difficult times. I discover that I'm actually pretty good at finding the right things to say to make them feel better. For the first time, I've found something that gives me complete joy. 

One day, I talk to Father about it. "It's my senior year, and I have no idea what I even want to do the rest of my life. I don't know what kind of career I want. Every time I think I find something, I get a chance to try it out and it doesn't feel right. But this, this feels right."

He smiles. "I have noticed a change in you the last few weeks. You do seem happier, and like you're coping better with your parents' divorce. Have you considered the priesthood?"

I laugh. "Well, when I was like four, I thought it sounded cool." He smiles again. "But I haven't really given it much thought since then."

"I think it's something that you should consider," he says. "I've been a priest for more than thirty years, and there's not been a single second where I've regretted my decision. It was difficult, when I first started out, because I had to leave behind the most beautiful girl in the world. I often wondered, the first few months, why God would let me fall in love with someone, if I was called to the priesthood. But since then, I've realized that loving her has helped me to better fulfill my duties. I know what it's like to love. To have my heart broken. I have compassion, I understand what it's like to be in a relationship. And I know how beautiful it is when you find your true calling, even though it may hurt at first."

I nod. I don't usually talk to him about Amia, but I know that he knows about our relationship. Does he really think I might be called to the priesthood? I don't necessarily believe that I am going to marry Amia. But I just always assumed that I'd get married someday. And being with Amia... the feeling of being so close to someone, the feeling I get in my chest when I see her, when I get to take her into my arms... I can't imagine letting go of that forever.

"You obviously don't have to make a decision right now," he says, seeing the panicked look on my face. "But pray about it. Let God speak to you, reveal to you His plan. Because whether it's marriage or holy orders, His plan will be infinitely better than your plan." He looks up at the clock. "Well, I should get going. I have an appointment in about twenty minutes, and I have to get things ready." He stands up as I do, walks me to the door. "You'll find your calling, Michael. You just have to open your eyes and your heart."

 

The next time I see Amia, things are different. I want her, more than I've ever wanted her before. But the conversation with Father is stuck in my head, and I hold back. She notices almost right away, asks me if everything is okay. 

"Yeah, I'm great," I say. "I just missed you. I haven't really seen you in a few days."

She hugs me tight. "I missed you too. We don't see each other that often anymore." For a moment, she looks really sad. "You're always busy. But you seem happier now." She gives me a quick kiss. "You know I love you, right?"

I nod and smile. "Of course I do. And I love you too." I kiss her this time, and neither of us pull away. 

Despite what Father said, I have to ask. Why would God give me someone like Amia, let me experience this kind of love, if I was called to be a priest? 

As she hugs me