Religion

I've been going to chuch semi-regularly here. I figure, hey, the practice of religion was suppressed for 70 years, take advantage of being able to go. There were a lot of underground churches here during Soviet times--literally, people worshipping in caves.

The only Mass held in English is near Maidan, a walk and a subway ride, then a walk up a very steep hill, which was an adventure in winter, with the ice. It's also at 8:30 a.m. But right around the corner from me is one of the few Roman Catholic churches in Kyiv. No Mass in English--Mass in Polish, Russian, and Ukrainian.

The Mass in Ukrainian is at 10 a.m., and there's no need for public transportation, it's a 5-minute walk. And though in Ukrainian, the ritual is the same. I went to Mass in Latin until I was 7.

I like church because it's a chance to see Ukrainians shedding their public faces, those grim dour stony visages. In church they smile and soften up. A mental image I'll carry with me forever is that of a tiny gold-toothed babushka, during the Sign of Peace, turning around and nodding to everyone, her hands over her heart, with a huge joyful grin.

I've become friends with an American family from Massachussets due to the convoluted circumstance of my mother in Bowie MD being very good friends with the husband's aunt. Their three kids all go to my school. Their oldest daughter, Mary Kate, asked me to be her Confirmation sponsor. Of course I was honored and delighted.

The Confirmation class was only 5 kids. At the ceremony, Mary Kate was the first candidate called forward by the bishop. I wasn't sure what to do, but, being first, what I did was what all the other sponsors copied. I don't think I screwed up too much.