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Personal Narrative: Home

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My day starts off dark, with the exception of the bright colored light shining through the stained glass windows high up above the alter. It is not until the Eucharistic minister puts the key in the door and opens it wide that I see natural white light from outside; I feel awake now. He walks from to all corners of the alter lighting the candles that stand tall. I hold many stories between my cracks and breaks in the wood; untold stories of both sadness and happiness. I have been here for a while now and I have seen the good and the bad; the worshipers and the sinners. Sometimes I get lonely when I start to think about the emptiness I feel when it is not holiday season; when there’s “no reason” to come and sit upon me. I feel as though I am being used. I hear the whispering and the chatter among the individuals as they pretend to pay attention to the word of God being spoken; why do they choose to enter the doors of the Church if they aren’t here to worship? I first feel the …show more content…

This man isn’t here to attend mass, this man is here alone and filled with regret. I hear him cry by himself and I taste the salt of tears once again; but these tears taste different. These tears are not full of happiness or sadness; these are tears of anger. He comes alone because he feels that he is not welcomed by God because he is a sinner who does not attend mass each day. He kneels on the kneelers in front of me and he begins to pray. His prayers start of soft, then they progress, becoming louder. Eventually he begins to yell at God. He doesn’t understand why God doesn’t answer his prayers. He feels as though God listens to those who attend mass on a daily basis, but he is too embarrassed to attend because he is homeless. He prays to God to listen to his prayers for once, and to help him out of poverty so he does not have to feel like a “sinner” much

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