Por: Angel Perdomo
The figure in question, and being questioned.
As a teen full of angst and rants about God
I read a quote by nun Theresa:
“I think that it is very beautiful for the poor to accept their lot,
to share it with the passion of Christ.
I think the world is being helped by the suffering of poor people.”
Ha! I pointed at the obscenity and cruelty of her words, a practical example
of their degeneracy. One more talking point on my crusade against God.
And I rant,
rant
and rant
until I got tired of the sound of my own voice.
All arguments to control, run from control, rise above control.
I am older now and have run out of rants and angst. I have no interest in debate,
fightsabout facts. I still think about Theresa
and the things she said.
Was I too quick to judge,
too young to understand?
Now that I am older and my world has grown,
and I am cursed with the fact that I have to pay a tax for everything I work to have.
Paycheck to paycheck, I remember how little power I command.
Most nights I cannot sleep, unable to make myself rest. I go for walks.
I leave my “too-soft-to-sleep-on bed” and go to the nearest park. There’s a man sleeping on the thinnest of mattresses.
He has wrapped himself with a duvet, and has the most relaxed,
most satisfied of expressions on his face.
I wonder if in that moment, I was seeing part of the beauty
Theresawas talking about. He at least had sleep figured out.
Was I seeing in him
the freedom and control my younger self thought of?
Did Theresa feel the same, or was she just a sadistic saint?I pondered and wandered until I found myself back in bed.
As I drifted in and out of sleep I wondered:
Was her heart in the right place? Should I “accept my lot”?
Is it to have control to give it up?
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