The Path of a Christian Witch Read Free Page A

waves of an ocean. We felt the whole congregation breathe to the movements of our bodies. We felt their sighs and their uplifted spirits. I was lifting up their prayer with each step and each movement of my hands. I was bringing their whispered prayers right into the ears of God.
    I could feel what it might have been like to stand in Athena’s temple or in a sacred grove. I bridged the worlds, keeping one foot on Earth and one hand in heaven. I looked out at the congregation, and I knew that my presence was leading them in prayer. I wanted to walk the hallways in silent prayer, every action an act of devotion. I wanted to be a part of liturgy, a song of praise, an instrument of God’s presence. I was fulfilling what I was born to be. I was clergy. A priestess for my people.
    Finding Love
    With time I came to realize that I still wanted to live in the world. I did not want to take my devotion and hide it within the walls of a convent. I was a bright student, and I didn’t want to sacrifice the gifts that God had given me. I wanted to spread them to the world by dedicating my life to making the world a better place. I went on to college to study microbiology and immunology, in hopes of dedicating my life to medical research.
    Going to college was exciting. Although I stayed in Montreal and continued to live with my family, I suddenly felt like I was part of the world. I traveled downtown every day and walked in the midst of the bustle of the workforce. I went shopping and had coffee with the girls. I discovered the city: museums, movies, clubs, and restaurants. I met new friends, and we enjoyed everything that downtown Montreal had to offer. It was just plain fun.
    I walked into the school cafeteria one day, expecting nothing more than a casual meeting with friends. But when I saw him, the world collapsed around me. The noise of the crowd vanished and I was transfixed by his eyes. It took me a moment to realize that my friend was taking me right to his table. He was in her class, and she wanted to introduce me to some of the friends she was going to school with. I said hi to everybody, but my eyes stayed on him. We exchanged some banalities about our weekends or something of the sort. In my head, one thought: this is the man that I need. My whole being rang with that conviction. There was something about the sound of his voice, his bearing, and his eyes that was comforting, like a soft place to fall when the world becomes too hectic. And the most magical, miraculous thing is that he felt it, too.
    He asked for my phone number, and we started calling each other. I can still see him waiting behind a column near the subway entrance, waiting to take me on our first date. We walked all night in the old city, talking about everything: our families, our love of music, our aspirations, our interests . . . We didn’t ask if we should be together or not. It was never a question. We simply were. This was love, pure and intense. The kind that takes you by surprise and amazes you. The kind that makes you believe in fairy tales and in angels, and that obliterates the ghosts of the past. There was nothing wrong here. Nothing to be ashamed of. With each kiss and each embrace, I felt stronger and more beautiful and more of a woman. I grew and bloomed and felt happiness in the core of my being. I looked back at all the time spent in misery and hurt, and I mourned all that time wasted. For now I knew with every fiber of my being that love and intimacy were the most beautiful things in the world.
    My father did not share my excitement for my new sense of actualization. He could not shake the idea that his nineteen-year-old daughter, his first born, was being cheapened by some man. As I listened to his lecture, something inside me clicked. For the first time in my whole existence, I knew what it was to feel complete conviction for something. I stood up calmly from the argument and said, “No. I know.”
    I remember the look on my father’s