The little boy knelt uncomfortably on the wooden bench, clenching his little hands together, trying to understand the words.
“And what I promise to you, my children, is finally for you to be free from this earthly life and its savage experiences. You will walk into the Kingdom unburdened, untroubled, lighter than air. Finally, your soul will fly free and, at long last, you will know what it is to be one with your Father, forevermore out of the reach of the world’s claws, immortally joyful.”
These words seeped into some part of him, and began to to form thin, tightening threads of desire, pulling at his thoughts into adulthood. Countless days layered on countless days until a point in middle age, he started to discern that this promise had been empty and wholly unnecessary all along. For as long as he was, so would be his world, and rightly so. In truth, he had never wished for it to be otherwise, but who had he been to question a priest?