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The Eucharist

He was old,
tired, and sweaty,
pushing his homemade cart
down the alley, stopping now and then
to poke around in somebody’s garbage,
I wanted to tell him about EUCHARIST

But the look in his eyes,
the despair on his face,
the hopelessness
of somebody else’s life in his cart,
Told me to forget it.

So I smiled, said “Hi – and gave him EUCHARIST.

She was cute,
nice build, a little too much paint,
wobbly on her feet as she slid from her barstool.
and on the make.

“No, thanks, not tonight,” – and I gave her EUCHARIST.

She lived alone,
her husband dead, her family gone,
and she talked at you, not to you,
words, endless words, spewed out.

So I listened – and I gave her EUCHARIST.












Downtown is nice,
Lights change from red lo green, and back again,
Flashing blues, pinks and oranges.
I gulped them in,

Said, “Thank you Father,” – and made them EUCHARIST.

I laughed at myself, and told myself,
You, with all your sin,
and all your selfishness,
I forgive you,
I accept you,
I love you.’

It’s nice and so necessary to give yourself EUCHARIST.

My Father’ When will we learn – you cannot talk EUCHARIST
You cannot philosophize about it – YOU DO IT.

You don’t dogmatize EUCHARIST.

Sometimes you laugh it, sometimes you cry it, often you sing it.
Sometimes it’s wild peace, then crying hurt, often humiliating, never deserved.

You see EUCHARIST in another’s eyes,
give it in another’s hand held tight, squeeze it in an embrace.
You pause EUCHARIST in the middle of a busy day,
speak it in another’s ear, listen to it from a person who wants to talk.

For EUCHARIST is as simple as being on time
and as profound as sympathy
I give you my supper, I give you my sustenance,
I give you my life, I give you me,

I give you EUCHARIST


R. Voight.

Irish Chaplaincy

Author Irish Chaplaincy

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