Out Cold

I remember…

My Baby Ben alarm clock

Waking me at 5:30 am

I bounced out of bed

Dressed in a hurry

Rushed out the back door

A warm morning, birds singing.

Running the four long blocks

On my way to serving 6’clock mass

Hurried into the dank church sacristy

My serving partner, Rich already there

Put on my cassock and surplice

Rich and I picked up the candle lighters

And entered the still dark sanctuary

We each lit three candles for a high mass

Then our favorite job, we filled the crewets,

Looked about, and we sipped the wine

We carried them to a table near the altar

Then walked back into the sacristy

Where Father Quinn in his vestments waited

We three hands in a prayerful steeple entered the sanctuary…

Father Quinn sang and the high mass began

At gospel time, I walked up the three altar steps

Pick up the Bible on its heavy wooden stand

Turned and stepped down, cold sweat

Dizzy…fade to black, I’m out cold

Sprawled on the altar steps

Bible pages askew, stand is smashed

Father picked me up and carried me off

Sister Clara came with a damp cloth

I slowly open my eyes, back to life

Went back out and finished serving the mass

After mass, Rich punched my arm and said,

“Now, you have a good story to tell.”