Death Goes on Retreat (32 page)

Mary Helen could not imagine what else.

“The two dogs were drugged with the same pills as Laura. Beverly crushed them into their water. Like I said, she had no intention of killing them. She just wanted them out for a while. Beverly really loved those dogs and was distraught when she went looking for them on Monday and found them dead.”

Mary Helen imagined Little shaking his head in amazement.

“I guess nobody’s all bad!” he said.

“Nobody is all bad!” Little’s words haunted Mary Helen as she slipped back into the chapel pew. And nobody is all good either, she thought. We are all just human beings.

She thought of the five priests, back in their own parishes by now. And who, she was sure, after this retreat experience would never be the same. The renowned monsignor, a dedicated, faithful man who still struggled to conquer the quick temper that had planted the seeds of hate in a young child. Ed Moreno ministering compassionately to the lost children in God’s flock, without ever being able to own his own feelings. The extremely talented Tom Harrington with a drinking problem. Zealous,
good-hearted Andy Carr unaware of his own goodness. Young, sensitive Mike Denski, yet to find meaning in his commitment.

Maybe that was what this retreat was all about—facing our shortcomings, acknowledging our strengths, and allowing God to love both. For she knew with certainty that God does love each of us individually—the priests, Greg and Laura, Bob Little and Terry, Sisters Felicita, Eileen, and herself, Eric Loody, and Beverly Benton!

God looks on us and the mess we have made of the graces He gives us, yet He continues to love us gently, deeply. There is nothing we can ever do that will change it.

In this quiet, beatific spot, she was suddenly overwhelmed by the reality of God’s unconditional love. Maybe that was the fruit of any retreat: realizing that great love and then spending our lifetime trying to extend the same unconditional love to one another.

The chapel door swung open. Eileen stuck her head in. “Tuna salad is ready when you are,” she whispered.

Slowly Mary Helen rose to join her.

“You will never guess what Sister Felicita asked me.” Eileen’s wrinkled face glowed with amusement.

Mary Helen bit. “What?”

“She asked me if I would consider staying on and being the cook here at St. Colette’s. And . . .” She paused. Mary Helen waited for the punch line.

“And . . .” Eileen’s bushy eyebrows rose. “She wanted to know if I thought you, old dear, would like to stay on and be my assistant!”

“Me? The cook’s assistant?” Mary Helen repeated incredulously. All at once, facing the music at Mount St. Francis College didn’t seem like such a bad prospect after all!