In the pursuit of further education, my travels took me to St. Peter's Seminary library in London where I hoped to mine some nuggets of theological insight into the revelation of God, specifically through the lens of Lectio Divina. The smell of incense filled the hall as I walked past the grim-faced portraits of graduates. I paused to search out Father B who was in my CPE unit at Kingston General (translation: chaplaincy internship). Serious young fellow, he was. Probably still is.
I did find some useful material and have all sorts of ideas for the paper due on Friday. And it's only Wednesday; I'm ahead of the game! I also had occasion to use the bathroom where I marvelled at the impressive array of urinals and stalls. There were so many ... I quickly clued in that the women's washroom would not need as much plumbing in a place such as this.
Back in the library, the volunteer student staffer was mildly helpful; certainly, he was eager. Ah, the wondrous days of theological training when ideals were steadfast and ambitions were untarnished! Someday, the weight of his vocation will leave him jaded, cynical and looking to the CAW for support. (But not me, I'm having a great time and I love what I do).
He wished me a good Christmas with a measured nod of the head, his lips firmly drawn in a show of earnest goodwill. Just like Father B. Maybe it's a St. Peter's thing. All in all, a pleasant and fruitful experience. I wouldn't want to do it everyday.
I did find some useful material and have all sorts of ideas for the paper due on Friday. And it's only Wednesday; I'm ahead of the game! I also had occasion to use the bathroom where I marvelled at the impressive array of urinals and stalls. There were so many ... I quickly clued in that the women's washroom would not need as much plumbing in a place such as this.
Back in the library, the volunteer student staffer was mildly helpful; certainly, he was eager. Ah, the wondrous days of theological training when ideals were steadfast and ambitions were untarnished! Someday, the weight of his vocation will leave him jaded, cynical and looking to the CAW for support. (But not me, I'm having a great time and I love what I do).
He wished me a good Christmas with a measured nod of the head, his lips firmly drawn in a show of earnest goodwill. Just like Father B. Maybe it's a St. Peter's thing. All in all, a pleasant and fruitful experience. I wouldn't want to do it everyday.
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