Priests Have Fun, Too
Excerpt #1, from Chapter 8

  SETTING: In the summer of 1976, "that" summer, Father Foley had invited my best friend Kenny and me, 14 and 15 years old, to spend the weekend at a house on a lake in Webster, Massachusetts, (map) with Foley's sidekick, a 20-something volunteer fireman and fire equipment salesman named Mike (not his real name).

     I found myself alone with Father Foley sitting on the deck, watching the setting sun glinting off the water. I’d never talked to a priest before about anything important, but Father Foley wasn’t like I imagined a priest being. I suddenly had a strong urge to tell him about my mother.

     "Father, do priests ever see Jesus?”

     “Sure we do,” he said. “What do you mean?

     "Well, my mom saw Jesus once.” His face lit up. “When I was little, she had to go to the hospital, and when she was there she met Jesus.”

     “Really?”

     “Yeah. She died and met Jesus, and He told her to go back with her family.”

     “That’s quite a blessing, Tony. Your mother must be very spiritual.”

     “Yeah, she sure is.”

     He unfolded his arms and put his hand on my leg. “I met Jesus when I was younger than you. He told me it was my calling to praise Him and to devote my life to Him. So I listened, and here I am.”

     I nodded.

     “So your mom must be happy that you’re hanging around with a priest, right?” He chuckled.

     “Yeah, she thinks it’s great. She’s big on the church. She wanted me to be a priest, but…I don’t know. I mean, you know…girls, and all.” I felt my face blazing.

     “Sure, Tony. But priests have fun, too. You’d be surprised. You know, when I take my collar off, I’m off duty.” He winked.