Author: Donald Guenther
Uploaded: 10/25/2013

Seventh grade proved to be a difficult year for me. Sister Francilla, a tough holy name nun, took it upon herself to straighten out the problem boys in her class. Gary Winger and I were her prime targets. She held high standards for behavior and school, Gary and I didn’t measure up.

Once, one of the boys slipped and let out some foul words. She knew just what to do. She washed his mouth out with soap and water. She also kept Gary, our star athlete, out of sports until his grades improved. (Gary dropped out of Coos Catholic after that year and dad’s sports teams dropped out too, into last place). When we couldn’t get all our homework done she kept us in from recess. She knew how to handle every problem.

Gary and I had language skill problems to go along with our behavioral flaws. Neither of us could learn the Latin prayers required to become altar boys. Sister Francilla had schooled the other boys and all had passed the Latin test and served as Altar boys.

Brother Ronny returned from Europe and announced his engagement to the beautiful MaryAnn. Stress came into my life as I learned that brother Johnny and I would be the altar boys for their wedding. Johnny, a year older than myself, had passed the Latin examine and had been serving as an altar boy for some time. His behavior, exemplary, and language skills put me to shame.

The wedding date was set and I had to work hard at learning Latin. Not one to get ahead of my problems I procrastinated to the last. My first mass to serve as an altar boy would be Ronny and MaryAnn’s wedding. My Latin test took place right before the wedding. I didn’t do well at all. I mumbled through the Confiteor, a rather lengthy prayer that did me in. Sister Francella felt pressured. How could she fail me with the wedding coming up involving such important church families? Sister Francilla caved and noted that I could serve as an Altar Boy but would need more Latin instruction in the future. Her way of saying I didn’t pass but was allowed serve as an altar boy because of my prestigious family.

The wedding day came and there were so many issues in play no one noticed that one altar boy, serving his first mass, got sick and had to leave the mass for a while. The mass must have been one of those high masses.  When I held the Bible for the reading by the priest I almost collapsed. I went into the back of the church and put my head down between up legs to try and restore my stability and health.

I remember Ronny misplacing his wedding ring. He could only manage difficult complex thoughts and left the rest of everyday thinking to others. I wondered if his marriage would be successful. MaryAnn had Champaign served at the reception and Phiddy had a little too much. The wedding, a big success, owing to Uncle Cliff letting Ronny use his ring for the ceremony. Ronny later found the ring in his shoe. Our world renowned scientist’s thinking had been that he would find the ring on the wedding day when he put on his shoes. The problem being that he rented different shoes.

Brother Johnny and I always served as altar boys together for years so our family could attend a single mass. Johnny carried the Latin altar boys responses while I mumbled. My 7th grade Latin never improved. I can still mumble the Latin prayers. Sister Francilla failed to straighten me out and fortunately for me the mass changed into English. My friend Gary never passed his Latin test and served as an Altar boy. Poor Gary, he didn’t have a prestigious family.

Read by Jereme Guenther