A Seven-Year-Old's Confession

When will the priest come? Carmelita, a seven-year-old, sat on her hands in a confession booth. Her short legs swung as if they kept time. She looked up. This booth is high. A tall skinny man can fit in here, like Uncle Antonio. But it's not very wide. She spread her arms out. I hope they have a bigger one for Aunt Angelina.

She leaned to her right, looked through the small window and saw no one.

I wonder, which priest will come to hear my confession this time? Father Juan was very nice to me. But I think it's only because I told him it was my first confession. She heard a priest come into the adjacent booth and sat down. I hope this priest is the bald one who looks like Mr. Potato Head. I like him. He always smiles at me when he shakes my hand after church.

When am I going to hear his voice? The screen on this tiny window makes it hard to see his face. Why can't we see each other? Maybe, it's so that the priest would not know who I am.

The priest cleared his throat and said, "Let's pray. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. May God enlighten you with the sins you need to confess." He continued with a ritual prayer.

Carmelita watched the priest's mouth as he prayed. His bottom lip tilts like grandmother's teacup. Her teacups are so beautiful.

"Amen. You may start," the priest commanded,

I can't wait to be a grownup and have my own tea cups.

"My child, are you there?"

"Yes Father, I'm here." I better listen and not allow my mind to fly away.

She knelt, but she was too short to reach the window.

"Daughter, you can stand up or sit."

"Thank you, Father. I'll sit." He can see me. That's funny! All I see is his mouth.

"Daughter, what sins do you have to confess today?"

With her feet crossed, Carmelita looked up. Quickly think of something.

She leaned into the small window and said, "I pinched my grandfather's hand three times this week. No, wait." She wiped the sweat from her hands on her dress. "The truth is, I pinched him five times. Wait." She scratched her head, counted with her other hand then continued, "Now I remember it was six times. The skin on his hand is all wrinkled with ripples like a cabbage leaf. I didn't really pinch it. I just played with my grandfather's soft hand's skin. It pulled up very easy--not like mine. When I let it go, it bounces back on his hand. It was fun."

"Do you make your grandfather angry?"

"No. Just my uncles, the boys in the neighborhood and the cat." She took a quick breath before continuing, "Sometimes my grandmother gets mad at my grandfather, but it's not her fault. She's just old and forgets that he is her husband."

A chuckle escaped from the priest. He cleared his throat then asked, "What things do you do that your grandfather or grandmother tell you not to do?"

"Let me think. I can't remember any from my grandfather. He just lets me be me. He tells me I am free like the hair that gets blown by the wind. I don't understand what that means. Maybe it's something the priest said on Sunday mornings, but I don't understand them either. They always talk in a funny language."

"Do you listen to the grownups at home?"

"I do most of the time. Well, except for my grandmother. I don't always listen to her, especially when I'm hungry. I go into the kitchen. Climb on the table. Get the basket hanging on the wall and take one or two tortillas. I always put the basket back on the nail. So that I don't get caught. Then I put salsa on the tortillas before I run out to play. She tells me not to eat before dinner, but I get so hungry I can't help myself."

With her hands over her mouth, Camelita thought, you talk too much. Now, you'll have to be on your knees praying for a very long time. I wonder how many prayers I will have to say.

"Child, are you still there?"

"Oh, yes Father, I am."

"What else did you do wrong this week?"

"I have to think hard." She was silent for a while. Quick make one up. "Oh, I remember one. I colored all over the fancy floor in the kitchen."

"Child, what possessed you to do that?"

Oh no, he thinks I'm possessed. I'd better confess with my sad voice.

With a quivering voice she spoke, but quickly changed her tone. "Father, we don't have fancy floors anywhere in our house. We have red brick floors. I actually color on the envelopes that Grandma throws away. I said that because I needed to think of a mistake I've made. I don't quite understand sin. I don't always know when I'm a sinner unless I'm told. Actually, one day I was playing house with my friends outside and Johnny. He's the only boy that will play with us girls. We were pretending that he was my husband. He was leaving to go to work and I kissed him goodbye. It was fun pretending that he was my husband. I remember this very well because his lips tasted like refried beans. I love refried beans.

The priest commented, "Oh my. Then what happened?"

"Johnny just stood there with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. From nowhere, I heard my auntie hollered "Carmelita what on heavens are you doing?"

"Did you tell her that you were just pretending?" The priest asked.

"No, I was scared. I just walked away like a small sheep and hid from her. Am I a black sheep, Father?"

"No, my child, you are not a black sheep. You just have a wild and vivd imagination. Is there anything that makes your heart feel sad?"

Carmelita touched her chest. In a timid voice she responded, "Yes."

"What is it?" The priest's soft voice encouraged Carmelita to open her heart.

"I killed a bird."

"What! I mean, you did? Why?" The priest seemed shocked.

"Let me tell you what happened."

"Please do, I want to hear the whole truth."

Carmelita hesitantly began to tell the story. "Yes, I will tell you the truth. I killed three birds. Well, I didn't actually kill them." She sighed before going on. "It feels as if I killed them, because I gave three stones to Carlos. He was the one who used his sling and shot them dead."

"Why on earth would Carlos kill the birds?"

"Well, you see, we just finished playing tag and we were all hungry. So he killed the little birds for him, his little brother and me to eat."

"Did you eat one?"

"I did. Carlos first cleaned them. Then he buried the heads, feet and feathers. We prayed, thanking God for the birds. His brother and I washed the tiny bodies before Carlos fried them. The little bird tasted like chicken. But it didn't have much meat. I felt sad while I ate it. The small body was so cute." Tiny tears fell on her dress as she sobbed.

"Don't cry. God made the birds for different reasons. At times, one must take their life to maintain ours. A prayer was said, which is very good. You didn't waist their little bodies. Did the boys have anything else they could have eaten?"

Carmelita wiped her eyes and answered, "No, their mother left and forgot to leave food for them. They only had one small bowl of leftover beans. We ate those too. Do you think God will forgive us? Forgive me?"

"God forgives everyone who comes to Him and asks. All you need to do is confess your mistakes, disobedience and mischiefs."

"What must I do for God and Jesus to forgive me?"

"Only ask," the priest told her.

She began to weep. "Please God, please Jesus forgive me."

"You're forgiven," the priest told her. "Go and pray your special prayer at the cross and cheer up. You're a good girl. But Carmelita, remember no kissing boys, not until you get a real husband."

"Yes, Father. Are you the bald priest?" Oh no, I shouldn't have asked him. He might get mad.

The priest giggled and said, "I am. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're always nice to me."

"Do me a favor Carmelita, please tell your grandfather, Senor Jose, that he has an amazing granddaughter. Now run along and say your prayers."

"I will." Carmelita walked out of the confession booth relieved. With a grin and a bounce in her steps, she went to the altar and prayed.

Once she was done, her grandfather who had been waiting for her, took her in his arms and asked, "How did it go?"

As they walked out of the chapel, she joyfully responded, "God and Jesus have forgiven me for my mistakes, my mischiefs and for something that sounds like disco-dance."

"You mean diso-be-dience?" Grandpa laughed.

"Oh yes. That's a big word and hard not to do."

Her grandpa added, "You have no idea. For now let's go have ice cream."

"Let's go." Carmelita pointed the way. "Oh the priest told me to tell you that you have an amazing granddaughter. That's me."

"Yes you are. You are my gift from God." He gave Carmelita a tight hug, kissed her forehead then entered the ice cream shop.