Love for the Luchador (A Modern Romance) Read Free Page A

lustful sins in one breath then demanding the priest
help her find the object of her lust in the next. She covered her face in
desperation and embarrassment.
    "I will
pray for you child... and your message will be passed. Say two rosaries for your penance."
    "Thank
you, Father! Bless you." She sat upright, wiped the tears from her face and
clasped her hands together. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart.
In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom
I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance,
to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus
Christo suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy. Amen."
    The
priest spoke again. "God, the Father of mercies, through the death and
resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy
Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the
Church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in
the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go in peace."
    As she
stood to leave, he added, "If it is in God's plan, I will see you at this time
next week."
    She left
the confessional and made her way to the front row of pews. Kneeling, she
prayed as the bare wood dug into her knees, but it was a small pain compared to
the suffering of the savior whose visage was nailed and bleeding on the cross
before her. She rolled her black rosary beads through her hands, her nerves settling
through repetition of her well practiced prayers.
    Finished
with her penance, she left after one last benediction. " Jesus Christo , I
know I am not worthy but please. I love him."
    ––––––––
    She slept
like a baby every night that week. For the first time in months, she did not
worry. She had put her faith in God to see her through this and knew that if
nothing came of it, God was telling her to move on.
    She knew
she would always think of him, no matter what happened when she next went to
that church. But if the priest told her to forget the luchador, if she married
another and had a family, he would still always remain in in her heart. The
mysterious savior. An angel among men.
    ––––––––
    She
entered the confessional exactly one week later, to the minute, wearing her
best summer dress and understated makeup. She wondered what would happen if the
priest had arranged a meeting. Would she burst out of the booth and run
frantically down the aisle? Would she freeze? Would she come to the moment of
truth and refuse it, afraid to ruin the perfection of the mystery?
    "In
nomine Patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti."
    "Father,
I came back, just as you asked when we spoke last week."
    "Yes, I
remember you my child. Are there any sins you wish to confess?"
    "Father,
have you talked to the luchador?"
    "First,
are there any sins you wish to confess?" The priest asked.
    "No,
Father. This has probably been the most virtuous week of my life. I have prayed
every day, have controlled my thoughts and my tongue, and have begged God for
mercy on my soul and an answer to my prayers. My only sin is that of wanting
fulfillment when I know I am not worthy."
    "Thank
you, my child. Never forget the purpose of this place. Now, if you have no
other sins you may go in peace to the church garden and meet him."
    "Father,
thank you! Thank you!"
    She
quietly stood up and calmly walked to the front of the church. Standing before
the grand figure nailed to the cross, she kissed His feet and whispered, "Thank
You." Then she turned and all but ran out to the church garden.
    He stood
there, a large muscled figure beneath a tree with a small rose held delicately
in his hand. He was wearing the same linen suit and the same red and green mask
as he had on Christmas Eve. The same soft, peaceful brown eyes gleamed, even in
the light of day. "Hello María," he started, "I know my mask is not appropriate
for this season but I