The Man at the Back of the Church by Clive Sanders The Priest became uneasy about the man at the back of the church, The man had clearly been drinking; that was clear from his entering lurch. He’d sat through the service in silence, not hearing a word that was said. He was rocking and rolling his shoulders and slowly shaking his head. He was dressed in an old shabby raincoat that had clearly seen better days, His hands and face were quite dirty, his hair was a number of greys. But he didn’t cause any bother, so the Priest carried on with his prayers. The service eventually ended and the flock went home down the stairs. But the man just sat there rocking, unaware that the others had gone, So the Priest went over beside him and asked “Can I help you my son?” The man stopped rocking and rolling and with head bowed stared at the floor, “I served with the Army in Bosnia, from ninety-three to late ninety-four. I had mates that would fight to protect me, when the going became too tough, But I saw some horrible things there, what the Serbs did to Gornji Vakuf. And now I’m out of the Army and my family don’t deserve all the grief, That I carry around on my shoulders, ‘cus I just can’t get no relief.” The Priest was swamped with pity and offered all that he could, And said that the love of the church could help with the pain he now understood. He wanted so hard to support the man with his memories of the dead, But the man raised his head to look at the Priest and in a resigned voice said, “The church can’t help with sympathy, ‘cus no matter where you search, I’ve seen more love on the battlefield, than you’ll ever see in a church.”
Posted on: Sun, 25 Aug 2013 07:19:15 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015