A couple of weeks ago by way of preparation for the Confirmation, we had the ceremony of light. As Mr. Waffle observed, sardonically, there was no ceremony of light when we were children but there didn’t seem to be any difficulty in confirming us in its absence.
Nevertheless, we dutifully trooped in to the church for our ceremony. The children’s teacher had them drilled to within an inch of their lives and they were absolutely brilliant. Even children who I know to have been consummate messers for the past seven years, totally delivered the goods. This is also a tribute to their ruthless but effective teacher.
Normally all religious ceremonies for the school are carried out by the same priest who is a saint and speaks excellent Irish. Unfortunately, he had to withdraw and another Irish speaking priest had to be found which is no joke at short notice. A priest was found (he was a Capuchin and to the delight of younger members of the congregation, he remarked that he was in his Jedi robes) and he confessed that his Irish was ropey. He wasn’t joking and it was very decent of him to step into the breach but it served to further underline how really excellent the children were at their lines and how comfortable they were with their Irish.
All very gratifying.
In the mildly amusing, secular Ireland goes to mass category, I offer you the following:
Herself baffled her classmates by genuflecting in the church. They had never seen anyone do this before (really, really?)
I overheard one of the other children describe the priest as the Pope. I think not.