I’ll Have An Order Of Fries With My Blessing


On Ash Wednesday, I made a somewhat firm decision to give up my beloved Cheetos for Lent. Last year, it was Ding Dongs and Pepsi Cola, and I wound up eating Twinkies and Dr. Pepper after three days, when I fell off the Lent wagon. At least, I stuck with my original plan.
On my way to see Father Frank, my priest at Our Lady of Perpetual Repentance, I stopped by Walmart for one last Cheetos fix. Standing in line at the checkout, I noticed shoppers with a tiny ink cross on their forehead. Odd. Then, I saw the lady behind me sported a small “Pokemon” sticker on her forehead. She noticed I was staring like a goon and said, “our priest ran out of palm ashes, and this was all he had left. It’s the blessing that counts.” Well, she had a point. When the Holy Father runs out of blessed stuff, he has to make do with available products.
I headed over to the church, finishing my bag of Cheetos and hiding it under the seat like a teenager does a beer can in the family car.
Two blocks from the church, the traffic was hardly moving, and I think business must be brisk for the good Father.
As I inched closer, I saw Father Frank standing at the curb, giving his blessing to the car’s occupants, leaning through the windows, and marking their foreheads. The next car up followed the same protocol. He ran cars through the line like a good day at McDonalds. Then it dawned on me: Father Frank was offering take-out Lent blessings to our flock. What a novel idea, so 2025.
I pulled up to his curbside church and rolled down my window. The multi-tasking Priest handed me a pamphlet with a prayer, crossed himself, and touched my forehead. ” Go in Peace, my son,” he muttered and gave me the peace sign. “Sorry about running out of ash,” he said.
” Back at, you, Father,” I responded and drove away.
When I arrived home, my wife asked me where I had been for so long. I explained the trip to Walmart, the Cheetos binge, and then Father Frank’s take-out Lent blessing and such, thus the extended time frame. She was staring at me like a goon when she asked, ” did you find anything at the garage sale?”
” What garage sale?” I replied.
She reached up to my forehead and pulled off a small round orange sticker with $1.00 written on it.
The good Father has to make do with what he has available. It’s the blessing that counts. Right?
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good one !
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Now I can vouch for the verity of drive-thru ashes; a church in the next town started that during the great plague of 2020 and stuck with it …. not a bad idea in a world of SUVs racing for another soccer game. Whoever was dispensing ashes this year has an enormous thumb and left a carbon footprint the size and shape of a schoolbook map of Texas on each forehead. Bill and I are past the age of fasting or giving anything up but this year I’m foregoing my beloved Hรคagen Dazs coffee ice cream in favor of plain vanilla.
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I had no idea some church did this, I made it up, ficton, as is Father Frank and his church. We didn’t give anything up this year. I ain’t giving up my Texas Burbon or my grilled Salmon. Momo likes Breyers Vanilla, I prefer Bluebell.
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It’s all true, Phil …. except the part about giving anything up. You’ll have to offer me more than eternal salvation to sacrifice my Hรคagen Dazs.
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During the Big C plague, our church had a drive thru to return palms given out on Palm Sunday of the previous year. They needed them to burn to make ashes for Ash Wednesday, which wasn’t a drive thru service. What are you going to eat when Bobby K cleans up the food supply? ๐
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Gotcha in spades!
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