Abbey-Roads2

Today is the memorial of a saint none of us ever heard of.

We saw him at daily Mass for years.  He sat off to the left - on St. Joseph’s side, near the back.  He was there when we came in to church, and he was there when we left.  He often sat with his eyes closed.  Sometimes we noticed that he used a rosary.  He was always there for adoration and the novenas.  Even during the funerals, he was seen seated in the very back pew.  He communicated daily.  Most people paid little attention to him.  Occasionally a pious lady would be seen speaking with him, but he was a man of very few words.  No one knew where he lived, except the old pastor, I was told.

Once I noticed him after communion, his eyes closed, with the slightest smile on his face.  As I left the church, I realized he looked the same, as if he had never moved.

I did not know his name, we never spoke - once our eyes met, but he quickly looked down at the floor, as if he hadn’t noticed me.   Another time, it seemed he nodded to me as I left the church, and I gave a slight nod back - but we were so far away, I wondered if he may have simply dosed off and caught himself, rather than it being a nod of acknowledgement.  (Although, today, as I commemorate him, I know he knew who I was.)

One day at Mass I noticed he wasn’t there, and I wondered where he was.  After that day I never saw him again.  I asked the new pastor about him, but Father didn’t know who I was talking about.  I later learned from the pious lady who spoke to him on occasion, that he had died at the Little Sisters of the Poor, no family, no friends.  I asked her what his name was, but she didn’t know.

I didn’t think to ask her how she knew what she knew - and afterwards, I never saw her again  either, because I changed jobs and no longer attended that church.

There are saints among us.

[Art: "Pilgrim" - Hermitage.]