The Man In The Church

As Told By Royver

I don’t know how to tell this story, so I’m just going to tell
it and leave it for you to figure out because I’m tired of
thinking about it and I want it out of my system. My name
isn’t necessary, it’s just enough to let you know I used to
sweep the Catholic Church down the road every Tuesday
and Thursday for the past two years. I do it as a kind of
penance for my sins; I don’t know…it kind of gives me
grace. I feel peace doing it. I’m a four hundred level
medical student so you don’t think I’m some bum with
nothing better to do than sweep churches. I don’t belong
to any church group and I’ll be the first to tell you that
sweeping gives me asthma attacks. So why do I do it?
Like I said, it makes me feel peaceful. Gives me grace.
Anyway, enough of me and on to the real issue here.
Going to church every Sunday is okay for most folks. The
bible did say to keep the Sabbath day holy and all that.
There’s nothing wrong in going to church only on
Sundays. I do it myself. The Tuesday and Thursday thing
is usually done after the mass. But it is on these days
that I meet the strangest of people.
There’s the girl that comes every Tuesday and kneels
before the Blessed Sacrament, crying her eyes out and
holding a picture of her family. I know because I have
spied that picture more than once when sweeping close to
her. Guess she’s got family issues. There’s the guy who
comes to the church soon after mass and sits beside the
statue of Mary only to open his engineering textbooks and
project works. He’s been driven out countless times by
the parish priest but he always finds a way to sneak back
in when he thinks no one is looking. I guess he needs
supernatural help in his studies. I don’t know if it works
for him though.
There’s the old woman who comes for mass without fail
and then kneels in front of the altar until she goes to
sleep. Literally snores. After about thirty minutes she
wakes up, makes the sign of the cross and goes home.
Dunno what that is about. I guess it’s between her and
God.
There are pious people and pious looking people. There’s
the girl who comes and prays real hard after church only
to go outside and put on flashy makeup and head for
class, always on skimpy and very sexy attires. There’s the
guy who says extra prayers while I sweep past him and
then when he thinks no one is looking he drops some
spare change into the box for the poor.
So many characters. But this story is not about any of
them.
There was this guy I noticed right around three months
ago. He came to church when the mass was over, when
the church was completely empty and then he entered the
church. I knew he was doing something there but I could
never really catch him at it. The moment I came in he
would either go out and wait until I finished sweeping and
left for lectures or if it looked like I was going to stay
longer, he would give up and go home. If any of the other
characters I mentioned was in the church, he would stay
outside until they left. He was very persistent and never
ever missed a Tuesday or Thursday. I couldn’t tell whether
he came on other days or not and I didn’t have anybody to
ask. I noticed he would come in looking a little gloomy and
down in the dumps and then leave feeling recharged,
relieved, happy. But I was quite sure the happiness wasn’t
from prayer. He looked…there isn’t any other way of
saying this…high. Like he was high on some drug.
Whenever he came out his eyes would be wide open, his
nostrils flaring, his breathing faster and he would grin at
all and sundry and then move on his merry way. I began
to suspect there was more to it than met the eye with this
customer.
One day curiosity got the better of me and I decided to find
out what Mr. Super happy was up to. I came to church as
usual when the service was about rounding up, waited for
them to finish, then began to sweep out the church. I
made sure to wake the old woman sleeping at the altar
and she thanked me and went home. I inspected the
statue of Mary and luckily the engineering student as
nowhere to be found today. I swept out the church and
went outside and sure enough he was there, the mystery
man, waiting patiently for me to leave. I nodded in
greeting at him and he reciprocated with a small smile. I
then proceeded to start sweeping outside the church. My
plan was to keep sweeping around until he felt I wasn’t
noticing and then I would sneak into the church and
observe him.
As soon as I moved some distance off to the back of the
church, sweeping like my life depended on it and raising
not a little dust, my suspect went inside. I waited a little
bit, timing it just right because I knew from experience
that he spent an average of fifteen to twenty uninterrupted
minutes in the church before he was done. I gave him ten
minutes during which time I had inhaled enough dust to
make a vacuum cleaner jealous. I started wheezing a little
bit but I kept up the good work, making sure he thought I
was very busy. And then I dropped the broom and tiptoed
back to the entrance. If I walked right in he would see me
instantly so I went on my knees (hey, I was really
curious!) and crawled on my belly into the church, using
the side pews to hide me from being seen.
I was still on my belly and crawling towards the altar when
I heard the sweetest sound. It was like a choirperson was
singing somewhere, probably from a music device the
man was carrying but the voice were so clear and
beautiful that I had to assume the device was really high
tech. The sound was sending sweet shockwaves through
my body and I made up my mind there and then to ask
him to transfer it to my phone after I was done spying on
him. As I got closer, the voice became louder and then I
had the eerie feeling that it was not coming from a music
device, it was being sung live. I raised myself to my knees
and peeked over the pew.
Think what you like, but I’m telling you right now that guy
was standing on air. I mean he was literally standing on
nothing a few feet above the ground, his two hands
clutched to his chest and his mouth open wide. He was
the one doing the singing and from the altar a light was
shining towards him. I blinked once or twice in case it was
a reflection from the sun outside or something, but no.
That light was coming from the altar! I didn’t know when I
let out a small cry of alarm. The guy turned around
startled and I saw his mouth and eyes were filled with
light.
I got to my feet and ran faster than I had ever run in my
life. I ran through the door like a bullet, not screaming, not
having enough breath to scream, not realizing I was
having a full blown asthmatic attack. Not until I collapsed
near the fence of the church from sheer exhaustion and
lack of oxygen. The air just couldn’t get through to my
lungs, my chest was so tight. I raised my head and looked
around to see if anyone could help me…and saw the guy
standing in front of me. I couldn’t even scream though I
was scared silly.
He smiled and knelt beside me and put his hand on my
chest. Immediately my lungs opened and cool wonderful
air flowed in. I breathed in once, twice and soon I was
alright again. I sat up and gazed at the man in front of me.
He didn’t look so frightening anymore and the light had
gone from his mouth and eyes.
“You nearly scared yourself to death there.” He said.
“Don’t you know better than to sneak up on people?”
“I’m sorry sir.” I said immediately. He laughed.
“It’s okay. I’m just glad you are alright.”
“Are you, like, an angel?” I asked.
He smiled again.
“You have a good heart. Keep up the good work. The Lord
really appreciates it when you do things for him from the
depth of your heart and not because you are being forced
to do it.”
“Okay.” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.
“I have to go now. Tell Eunice to call home tomorrow and
tell Matthew that if he wants to pass he has to return
those books to their owners.”
“Okay.” I repeated.
Then he strolled to the church gate, his hands in his
pockets and entered a bus and was gone.
I didn’t even ask his name or number.
The next day I went to church. I waited until the girl with
the family picture came into the Blessed Sacrament and I
went to her.
“Excuse me please, are you Eunice?” I asked.
She looked at me curiously.
“Yes, do I know you?”
She had a nice smile when she wasn’t crying so much.
“Em, I was told to tell you to call your home today.”
Her eyes widened. “By who?”
“One guy like this. Sha call home.” I said and moved
towards the statue of Mary where the engineering student
had settled in for his early morning study.
“Matthew?”
The guy nearly jumped out of his skin. “What?”
“I was told to tell you that if you want to pass you have to
return those books to their owners.”
Matthew looked at me for a few seconds. The next thing I
knew he was on his feet and had me by the collar of my
shirt.
“Who are you?” He shouted. “Are you calling me a thief?”
I was about to respond when we both heard a loud cry and
we turned around to see Eunice on the phone crying and
kneeling and shouting
“Praise God for healing!” Then she cut the call and ran
towards me. Matthew released me as she fell into my
arms and hugged me tight.
“God bless you! My father and mother are going to be
alright!” She smiled through happy tears. “Who are you?”
“Me?” I gasped. “No, I’m not the one…there was this guy
yesterday…”
“You must show him to me tomorrow!” She shouted and
the parish priest appeared from the hallway. Matthew was
looking at me strangely. Suddenly he picked up his books
and things and hurried out of the church. The parish priest
sent me and Eunice out as well and shut the door.
The strange man never came back. I came the next day
with Eunice to see him, no show. I came the day after that
and the day after that day but till now he has not returned.
Eunice and I are currently in a relationship. Don’t laugh,
I’m trying to keep it as godly as possible but my goodness
she is wonderful wife material. She's so kind and caring.
She makes me so happy and we study wonderfully well
together. She’s an accounting student by the way. I have
a feeling that she’s going to be a big blessing to my life
and we are going to share a future together.
I guess I just want to say, Thanks bros.
Thanks, God.