With a suppressed sigh and the slightest hint of poignancy, I looked intently at a friend’s picture. She’s wearing a toga, the kind members of the choir wear in church. I used to wear the same thing – its folds all pressed to perfection and pristine in its whiteness. An unexpected stab of regret pierced through me as I realized that, sadly, I’ll never wear that garment again. Since I left the fold, singing church hymns, which used to be a source of infinite gladness, is now reduced to a dim memory, an irretrievable fragment of the past. What remains is a sweet sadness for all that was lost and, in return, for everything I have gained.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
no plans of going back to church? ever? :)
none. ever. :)
you were an active church choir before...it's sad that you're no longer there.
will you sing in my church? you only have to learn one song - ninety nine bottles of beer. :)
i know that song! singha, smb or heineken? :D
so do you still sing?
by the way, there is something about the way you write... it's very captivating. i can't put a finger on it...
hi amelia. it's sad but it's for the best.
hello agnes. i still sing to and for myself but never in church.
my boyfriend agrees with you about the captivating thing but he, too, cannot identify what makes it captivating. anyway, thank you very much. i truly appreciate it. :)
Post a Comment