“We were given Grace. None of us are deserving of Grace, we all deserve judgement. Take your gift of Grace, Katie. Forgive yourself.”
Her voice was a meek whisper. “How could God ever forgive the likes of me?”
He placed his hand over hers. “Because He’s God. That’s what He does.”
Katie locked eyes with the quiet priest. “I am so lost. Far from myself. It was easier when I was closer to God, back home in Indiana, on our farm. But here...”
“You have to deliberately look for the quiet moments to seek God, especially when the world around you moves fast.”
Katie chewed her lip. “What do I do? I don’t even know anymore.”
“My child, you already know.” The simple priest stood. “All you have to do is ask.”
Katie bowed her head in prayer and opened her heart to God. “My God, I am so sorry for offending those who love me, including You. Please forgive me, and allow me to forgive myself.” Her head sank lower. “Please make clear my path. I don’t know anything anymore, I’m so far from myself. So far from You.”
An image at once came to Katie’s mind of a pre-Rumspringa Katie. Standing in spring green grass in Indiana, wearing her plain garb, with her friends and family all around. And a sincere smile on her face.
“Thank you, God. Amen.”
Katie looked up into the kind face of the priest. “He is so faithful. Even to someone like me.”
He nodded. “Will you be staying to celebrate Mass with us?”
Katie glanced around, shocked. As she poured her heart out to God, people had filtered in and filled the pews of the church. Some were on their knees, their hands clasped before them in prayer. Others sat, muttering, with strings of beads in their hands. “Oh, oh my. I have somewhere to be, but thank you.” She stood to go, but turned back toward Father Plant. He was dressed as simply as the Amish, in a plain brown frock with a rope belt.
She looked down at the dress Nellie loaned her back on the train. Everything had been a whirlwind since then. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“This dress. Might you have something simpler I could buy?” Katie froze. “Actually, my bag is back on the train, so I have no money. I’m sorry, I’ll let myself out.”
Father Plant reached out and touched her arm as she turned to go. “Actually, you don’t need to pay. At least not with money.” He gestured to a little room off the side of the sanctuary. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Katie followed him to the small, dark, windowless room. Father Plant struck a match and lit a single candle in a sconce nearest the door. Several rows of frocks, just like his, hung there. “Help yourself to what you need.”
“These are very plain.” Katie sucked in a breath. “These make sense.”
Father Plant nodded. “That was the idea when a man named Francis Bernardone, nowadays known as Saint Francis of Assisi, gave up all of his riches for a life of poverty.”
Katie shook her head. “Forgive me, Father, did you say he gave up his riches? For poverty?”
“Yes.” The simple priest clasped his hands at his middle. “His family was the richest in his part of Italy. A town called Assisi. And you and I both know what the Good Book says about rich people entering the kingdom of Heaven.”
Katie nodded. “Camels don’t fit through the eyes of needles very well, just as rich men...” She paused. “And rich women, don’t seek God with their full hearts. They seek riches first.”
“Exactly,” Father Plant continued. “And Francis didn’t realize this for many years. He was cruel to the poor, greedy, and selfish.”
Katie stared at the priest with unbelieving eyes. This was not how I thought this story would go.
“Then, one day, he changed. Completely. People he’d known all his life, including his rich father, were none too happy with him.” Father’s eyes twinkled in the muted room. “They figured nobody in their right mind would give up a life of riches and luxury.”
“Why would he do that?” Katie’s eyebrows knitted together over her eyes. “Change so suddenly, I mean?”
“God spoke to him. And when God speaks, we must listen.” Father Plant smiled. “Francis desired to take the Bible’s words literally, and be like Jesus. No possessions, no fancy clothes. Just faith in God and a kind heart for the poor. Loving others as Jesus taught us to love—by loving us, when we were drenched in sin and unlovable ourselves.”
Katie nodded. In the end, Francis’s story made sense. “This Saint Francis of Assisi sounds like he may have had an Amish heart too.”
“I think you two would have gotten along quite well.” Father Plant smiled and gestured to the rack. “Help yourself, Katie Knepp. And Go with God, I trust He answered your prayers?”
“He did. He always does, even when sometimes I don’t like the answer.”
The priest laughed a hearty laugh that echoed off the stone walls. “You have a minister’s heart, Katie.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, unsure if he was making a statement or an observation, as she thumbed through the identical articles.
Katie chose a plain, brown frock and pulled it to her chest. “How can I repay your kindness?”
Father Plant turned to her from the doorway. “Do unto others, Katie. Show others the same kindness I’ve showed you, just as Jesus commanded us.”
“Love your neighbor as I have loved you,” they said together.
“Maybe we can change the world,” Katie said with a shrug.
“It only takes one person to change the world,” Father Plant agreed. “Jesus Christ was proof of that. Now go into the world and love others as He first loved us.”
Katie looked down at the frock and clutched it even tighter. “Thank you Fa—” But when she looked up, Father Plant was gone.
Chapter Twelve
