They sat side by side in the front pew. He was a big man, broad-shouldered, slightly bent and no longer strong. She was very small and agile by comparison. Their heads were gray. They stood and knelt and sat down in the rhythm of the service. For him, each change was slow and painstaking. When it was time to come forward for communion, they stood, side by side. She turned to him and gently took off his mask. He stood there, childlike. Slowly, they walked to the communion rail. She took his arm as if she loved him. Afterward, she put his mask back on as if she loved him. Together they walked slowly back to their pew, and together they knelt again side by side. When the service ended, I left them, but their loveliness is still with me.
“[F]or Christ plays in ten thousand places, / Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his / To the Father through the features of men’s faces.” Gerard Manley Hopkins
“[A]nd You give [me] drink from the river of Your delights." Psalm 36:8