I am in debt

...to the Pastor of Carlinville.

For the past several weeks now I have been in great need of a haircut. Yesterday I finally decided to resolve the situation (I often wait until I can't stand it much longer).

Many moons ago a friend once remarked, "A good haircut is worth whatever you pay." I agree.

The lady who cut my hair when I was in Effingham did a fantastic job and cut it better than anyone I have yet found. Others have done a good job, but none as good as her.

After Mass this morning I decided to return to Effingham today for a haircut, if she would be free. The only other item on the calendar for the day was an evening appointment in Carlinville for dinner with a few priests prior to hearing confessions; today was the quiet before the peaceful chaos that is Holy Week.

Before the hair cut appointment, I decided to swing by the high school and drop off a copy of A Priest's Life: The Calling, The Cost, The Joy at the school library since the third chapter is the story of my calling. As It happened, I arrived in time for lunch and, since they were a bit short of help, helped serve lunch.

After visiting with the students I went to my appointment and received a fine hair cut. Since I forgot to drop the book off earlier, I returned to the high school and spent a couple of hours visiting with the students and some of the teachers.

Finally I looked at the time and realized I would not make it to Carlinville in time for dinner and sent the news ahead of me.

Recalculating the schedule, I told myself that if I left Effingham by 5:15 p.m., I would arrive in Carlinville in time for confessions at 6:30 p.m., and still have fifteen minutes to spare. I'm not sure how I figured that; the drive is about 1 hour and 40 minutes. Somehow my math simply did not add up.

At the time it was 3:30 p.m. Seeing as I had some time to spare I decided to stay a bit longer and visit with the students at the various sports practices held after school.

At 4:45 p.m. some of the students invited me to join them for an early dinner. Since I still had a few minutes I agreed, thinking I would simply order my meal to go and eat it on the drive to Carlinville. Everything was falling together very nicely.

The waitress didn't quite seem to catch my need to leave at 5:15 p.m. It suddenly occurred to me - at 5:23 p.m. - that there was no possible way I would arrive in Carlinville to hear confessions at 6:30 p.m. My hamburger and fries arrived at the table in a to-go box at 5:35 p.m.; I said goodbye and drove to Carlinville, feeling very foolish. I again sent word ahead of me.

I arrived at 7:15 p.m., feeling very sorry and fearing the worst. I entered the church and realized that confessions were just about finished; thankfully there were five other priests hearing confessions, which alleviated some of my guilt.

When I saw the pastor, a classmate and good friend, I apologized and explained the situation, still baffled at my inability to do simple math. I said to him, "I owe you big." He laughed and agreed.

I spent the next three hours visiting with him and his youth minister, catching up with each other and solving the problems of the world.

All in all, it was a wonderful day.