I inhaled deeply before I lift up my legs to start climbing the steep stairs. It was past 10 in the morning. The flickers of the sun on my face were throbbing. I ignored it. I must reach the top of this cemented unparalleled stairs right away. I made it to the top of the steps with bullet sweats, opened my bottled water and breathed deeply again before gulping my cold drink.
As I finished my drink like those scenes in thirst-quenching beverage TV commercials minus the exaggerated “ahhhh!”, dried leaves from the old gigantic tree near me sprinkled in my head with the whistle of the winds. A timeworn moldy church greeted too . I raised my arms acting to catch some leaves and lifted my face meeting the sun sparks more blinding. I saw the three black crosses made of wood (or perhaps metal) at the top of the church hiding the dancing sun or playing peek-a-boo.
I covered my watery eyes.
Inside the quietest airy church with the chirping of birds forming a choir and only natural lights were on, I saw a lot of familiar and strange faces. Most people inside the church were saying whispered prayers and I saw one screaming her prayers. I’m not a Catholic, I seldom enter a Catholic church.
I went out of the church after a few minutes and beamed that these people are inside this house of worship even without occasion. PRAYERS are powerful.
“Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.” - Martin Luther King, Jr.