Evening came and the family gathered at the door. It was Holy Thursday and we were on our way to mass. Coats were donned and shoes were buckled as we prepared for the first of the Holy Week masses.
Six tall cream candles stood in front of the altar, three on one side and three on the other. All the statues were covered in purple cloths and a jug and bowl stood between the candles. Members of the parish choir trickled into the church. This year Dad and Callum were asked to sing in the choir. They joined the choir members around the organ.
We were kneeling down praying when one of the ladies in the choir came over.
"Would you like to sing?" she asked Imogen.
"If Mum says I can I'd love to," Imogen answered eagerly.
She loves singing at the Holy Week masses. With Mum's permission she left us and joined the choir. Of course Imogen hadn't practised any of the music but she did remember most of it from other years.
Mass began and the incense began to float around the church in a misty cloud. Oils blessed at the cathedral were brought in one by one. Father said a prayer as the three children carried them in.
Then Father took off the outer part of his vestments and two altar servers picked up the bowl and a huge pile of white towels. They slowly made their way around the church stopping every now and again to wash a foot.
After communion Father processed slowly around the church with the Blessed Sacrament. We all knelt. The choir sang as Father processed. Mass ended quietly with no recessional hymn and hardly any noise. Barely anyone spoke as they left the church. Holy Thursday is over for another year.
The Mass of the Lord's Supper is so moving, isn't it? Your story brings lots of emotions to mind, Charlotte. x
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