Death and the Monsignor

In paradisum deducant te Angeli; in tuo adventu suscipiant te martyres, et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Ierusalem. Chorus angelorum te suscipiat, et cum Lazaro quondam paupere aeternam habeas requiem.

May the angels lead you into paradise; upon your arrival, may the martyrs receive you and lead you to the holy city of Jerusalem. May the ranks of angels receive you, and with Lazarus, once a poor man, may you have eternal rest.

Today I sang those words, and I cried.

I don't suppose I knew Monsignor Pointek very well. Not personally, at least. I believe he always scared me a little as a child. Growing up, he was a part of my life, and the life of Tehachapi. I don't think there was a time when I did not know him. He was always around, saying Mass when Msgr. Barnes couldn't, hearing confessions, visiting the sick, and the imprisoned, and the poor, and all while he was an elderly, retired priest. He was always to be seen at Kelcy's Cafe on Tehachapi Boulevard of a morning, and he always had a pocket full of Snapple caps to hand out to the children. I remember him mostly as a funny, eccentric little old man, with his long white beard and his many peculiarities. He was convinced that if he walked only on the middle of the squares on the post office floor he would avoid Alzheimer's. But he was also a good man. As Fr. Michael said at the funeral Mass, "he was a man who was not in tune with what the world believes to be important. He was a man in tune with Christ." There are countless stories about Msgr.'s eccentricities, but there are also countless stories of the good he did for the Church. In late 2013, Msgr. reached his 100th year. And how did he do it? To quote a priest friend of his, "Good clean living, breakfasts at Kelcy's, and a deep love for the life that God gave him."

As I said, I did not know Msgr. very personally. But as we sang "In Paradisum" while the casket left the church, I began to cry. Funerals always have that effect on me ever since the death of my grandfather, and that of the girl I went to school with, Christine Allen. As I sang those words through my tears, I realized how incredibly beautiful the "In Paradisum" is. It is the kind of beauty that brings tears to my eyes, because the ranks of angels are coming to receive the soul of the deceased and lead him into paradise. It is beautiful because that is beauty, that life after death with Beauty himself. We do not despair, nor fear death, because we shall have life. It is the kind of beauty that makes you long for the indescribable, yet makes you feel at peace. It is a sorrowful moment when the casket leaves the church, yet there is peace. 

I have often pondered death. I do not understand it. Yet today I had this incredible feeling of peace. It was as if I could see it, see Msgr.'s soul being born up by the angels to be received by Christ, and Christ was smiling on him, and reaching out his hands to greet him. Though I cried, it was certainly more for our loss and the reminder of my other losses than for any loss on Msgr.'s part. Whenever I think of Faith, I think of death. It is faith that makes us rejoice in the death of a person we love. It is how we move on. And I think of how great is the gift that God gave us - his Son, so that we might have that joy in death. I cannot but weep.

May the soul of Monsignor Francis Pointek rest in peace. May Christ and his angels come to greet him, and bear him up to eternal life.

"I want this gathering for family and friends to be a joyful time so that all persons meeting in memory of me shall renew loving ties to each other in celebration of my entry into eternal joy. I ask my family and friends to remember me with joyful, not sorrowful, though, and to keep me in their prayers. I assure them that they are loved and remembered by me in prayers for them, and they should do the same for each other. Believe in Jesus and act according to His will so that we shall all meet again in eternal joy."

~ Reverend Monsignor Francis J. Pointek

September 23, 1913 - January 15, 2014

Ordained May 26, 1940

In Bleak Midwinter

To my favorite Sarah 

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

                        ~ Christina Rossetti

They had walked many long miles. The boy and his brother were weary, cold, and hungry. The night was a cold and dark one. The stars shone hard and bright in the hard, cold sky, like bits of shattered ice. The ground was cold, covered with a fine layer of frost, and the sky was cold, speckled with shards of broken ice.

“I’m tired.”

Gabriel turned his eyes from the sky to his little brother. Jamie clung to his hand, and his feet were moving, but his eyes were nearly closed. He could not last much longer without sleeping. Gabriel guided his little brother as he peered into the darkness for some place in which they could take shelter for the night. The countryside stretched out before him, bleak and bare. It seemed there was not one single barn or even a haystack anywhere near. It was as if the two boys were all alone in the world. Everything else had dropped off, and they were left there with only the cold, hard stars for company.

“Just a little farther, Jamie,” he told his little brother. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Where’s ‘there’?” Jamie asked sleepily.

“It’s a surprise,” Gabriel said. “You’ll see.” He did not know where “there” was himself. He just had to get Jamie somewhere where he would be a bit warmer, where he could sleep without any fear. He didn’t think he himself could go much longer. “Just a little farther,” he whispered to himself. He lifted Jamie onto his back and trudged on.

It started to snow quite suddenly. One minute the ice stars were shining in the frozen sky, and the next moment they were obscured by the falling snowflakes. Gabriel hurried on. He could not keep Jamie out in this snow for much longer. His own feet were cold. His hands were numb. He held onto Jamie as hard as he could and kept on. He could not stop. If he stopped, he could not start again. He could not leave Jamie in the cold.

Something rose mistily before them. It was a bank, and in the dim light Gabriel could see that it led up to a forest. He held onto Jamie with one hand, and with the other groped along the bank. Perhaps there was some sort of overhang or something under which they could take shelter. His groping hands found emptiness. “Here, Jamie, I’ve found something,” he said.

“Is it a nice house?” Jamie asked sleepily.

“Better,” Gabriel replied. He gently let Jamie slide off his back and settled him against the bank. He reached into his pocket and took out a stub of a candle and a small matchbox. There were two matches left in it. He lit the candle with one of the matches, and protected it with his hand as he peered into the emptiness.

It was a small cave. The floor was strewn with dead leaves, and it had a faint musty smell as if it had not been disturbed for a long time. Gabriel peered at the ground outside the cave. Even though the snow was quickly starting to cover it, he could see that there were no animal prints. He took Jamie’s hand and led him into the cave.

Jamie was a little more awake now. He looked around him with interest. “Is this a cave?” he asked.

“Yes,” Gabriel answered. He was busy gathering the leaves into a pile.

“This is even better than a house,” Jamie decided. “Can we live here?”

Gabriel stopped to smile at him. “I don’t think so. We’ll just spend the night here and move on in the morning. Now you stay here, Jamie. I’m going to step out and see if there is any wood we can use for a fire. I won’t go far.”

When he came back with an armful of branches, he placed half of them on top of the pile of leaves. He lit what was left of the match he’d used to light the candle and held it to the leaves. They burst into flame, and he coaxed it to catch hold of the branches. It was not long before he had a small fire. “Come warm yourself,” he told Jamie.

Jamie came close to the fire and held his hands out as his brother was doing. “Do we have anything to eat?” he asked. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too, Jamie, but no, we don’t have anything. We ate the last yesterday, remember?”

Jamie sighed but did not say anything. Gabriel went to sit beside him, and Jamie snuggled up next to him. “Gabriel,” he asked, “do you think we’ll ever find daddy?”

Gabriel put his arm around him. “I don’t know. I hope we do. But we don’t even know if he’s alive. Remember, his letters just stopped coming two months ago.”

“Before mummy died,” Jamie said.

“Before mummy died.”

“Daddy doesn’t know, does he?” Jamie asked.

Gabriel shook his head. “No. Unless he went back home. Then he would know. But I don’t think he did. He didn’t know mummy was sick, because his letters had stopped coming by then.”

Jamie snuggled closer. “I wish we could find daddy. I wish mummy were still alive. I wish that mean old Mr. Blescoe hadn’t put us out.”

“Me too,” Gabriel said. “But we can’t go back, so we’ll just have to find daddy.”

They were silent. Jamie yawned. Gabriel looked at the fire and counted in his head. “Jamie,” he said, “do you know what tomorrow is?”

“What?” Jamie asked sleepily.

“It’s Christmas.”

“Christmas,” Jamie murmured. “We’ll find daddy, and we’ll have a lovely Christmas tree and presents and a big, big roast, and all sorts of lovely cakes and things, won’t we, Gabriel? Because it’s Jesus’ birthday, and he likes people to have nice things on his birthday.”

Gabriel smiled at him and stroked his head. “Yes, we will, Jamie. Because Jesus likes us to have nice things.”

“And we’ll have a big, big pudding, and it will have fire on it, just like mummy used to make it…and…we’ll have…” Jamie’s voice grew softer until he had fallen asleep.

Gabriel put his arm around Jamie more securely, and with the other hand put another stick on the fire. If he was careful, he might be able to make the fire last all night. He could not go to sleep. He blinked his eyes hard to keep from falling asleep. His eyes felt gritty, and his whole body longed to sleep. He could not sleep. He must stay awake. They must stay alive.

He awoke suddenly as a gust of cold wind blew into the cave. He shivered, and realized with a sinking start that the fire had gone out. He had gone to sleep and let the fire go out. He cursed himself silently as he reached into his pocket for the matchbox. He took the last match out and struck it. The flame spurted up, but he had not taken care to protect it from the wind, and it died as suddenly as it had come to life. He threw the dead match into the dead fire and pulled Jamie into his arms. The little boy was awake and shivering. Gabriel took off his worn jacket and wrapped Jamie in it, and held him close. “Jamie,” he said, “we have to stay awake. If we don’t we might freeze to death. Can you stay awake?”

Jamie yawned. “I don’t want to. I want to go to sleep.”

Gabriel shook him. “You can’t go to sleep, Jamie. Let’s sing a song.”

“Can we sing a Christmas song?” Jamie asked.

“Of course. It must be after midnight by now. Happy Christmas, Jamie.”

“Happy Christmas, Gabriel,” Jamie answered. “Can we sing mummy’s favorite song?”

They sang “In the Bleak Midwinter,” and it was very fitting. The frosty wind made moan, and snow was falling, snow on snow. They sang all of the Christmas carols they knew, and all the other songs they knew, and started all over again. Their voices became hoarse, and their bodies grew colder.

As they were singing, they snow stopped. They could tell because it stopped blowing into the entrance of the cave. Then it seemed as if the whole world was silent and listening, and a great hush lay over the world. Gabriel held Jamie close and looked out into the darkness. As he watched, a light appeared. It grew slowly, flickering over the fallen snow. Gabriel had a strange feeling inside of him, as if he were both frightened and comforted at the same time.

The light came closer, and stopped. A man’s voice called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

“We’re here,” Gabriel called. “In the cave.”

An instant later a man appeared in the entrance to the cave. He was tall and burly, and he was dressed in a thick coat and a hat with ear flaps. He looked at the boys in surprise. “Hello,” he said. “What are you two doing here?”

“We were walking, and it started snowing, so we came here for shelter,” Gabriel explained. “Please, can you help us? My little brother’s very cold and hungry.”

The man looked them over with his shrewd black eyes. “And no doubt you are as well. Come, I will bring you to my cottage. It is not far.” He lifted Jamie out of Gabriel’s arms and helped Gabriel stand on his numb legs. “I had a feeling that I ought to go check on my sheep, as it was so cold,” the man explained as he led them out of the cave. “Then I heard you singing, and I followed the sound. I am very glad I thought to check on my sheep.” He took off his thick coat and put it around Gabriel’s shoulders. It was lined with fur, and it was very warm.

“Thank you, we are too,” Gabriel murmured as he snuggled into the warm coat.

The man led them to his cottage. He deposited Jamie in a chair by the fireplace and set to work bringing the embers to life. That finished, he told the boys to warm themselves while he got them something to eat.

Gabriel and Jamie sat side by side in front of the fire and looked around them. The man’s cottage was small, but it was sturdily built and tidy. Wooden cabinets lined the walls, and there were animal skins on the floor.

The man called them to come and eat. He had set the table with bread, cheese, sausage, and three mugs of something hot. Jamie took a cautious sip from his mug, and his face lighted up. “Chocolate!” he cried.

The man smiled. “Yes, it is a favorite of mine. I don’t have it often, but since it is Christmas I thought we ought to have some.” He sat back and watched them over his cup of chocolate as they ate and drank hungrily.

“Perhaps we ought to acquaint ourselves,” he said at last, when nearly all the food was gone. “My name is Thomas Marsh, but people round here call me Young Thomas. My father shepherded the town flock before me, and he was Old Thomas. You probably don’t know that; I’ve never seen you around here before. You’re not from around here, are you?”

Gabriel shook his head. “No, sir, we’re not. Our mother died two months ago, and we were put out of our house because we couldn’t pay rent. We’ve been looking for our father. Oh, and I’m Gabriel Owen, and my little brother is Jamie.”

Young Thomas looked hard at them. “Gabriel and Jamie Owen,” he murmured, almost as if he had never heard such names before. He finished his chocolate, and stood up and stretched. “Well, I suppose you two are quite tired,” he said. “I know I could do with a little more sleep. Why don’t we turn in for the rest of the night? I’ve got a pile of furs and some blankets, and I’ll make you a bed by the fire.”

The bed was made quickly. Gabriel and Jamie took off their shoes – or rather, Gabriel took off both his and Jamie’s, for Jamie could hardly keep his eyes open any longer – and climbed into the pile of furs and blankets. Jamie immediately curled up next to Gabriel and went to sleep with a little sigh. Gabriel was not long in following. The furs were so soft and warm, and he was so tired. Just as he was drifting off, he thought he saw Young Thomas leave the cottage again. His last thought was, “He’s probably going to check on the sheep again.”

 Gabriel woke in the morning with a feeling of contentment. He knew exactly where he was. He never had that strange feeling of not knowing where he was when he woke. Perhaps it was because he had spent so long taking care of Jamie and his mother, making sure they were always safe. He lay still with his eyes closed, feeling the softness and warmth of the furs over and under him. Jamie lay sprawled beside him, one arm flung across Gabriel’s chest and one leg draped over Gabriel’s leg. Jamie never could sleep tidily.

Last night, in fact the last few days, hardly seemed real, yet Gabriel knew they had happened. He could not dream up the long, endless walking, the way people looked at them, their sheer weariness and hunger. He could not conjure up that gripping, freezing cold, that feeling of despair, though the images and memories flashed through his mind. He did not mind that Jamie was sprawled over half the bed, because Jamie was warm, and alive. He was not cold and shivering in his arms. Most of all, Gabriel felt a great relief. He was not fighting any more, fighting to keep them both alive. He would never have given up, but all the same, he was glad he did not have to fight anymore. He did not have to worry any more.

But he did, he realized as Jamie stirred in his sleep. He still had to worry because they couldn’t stay at the shepherd’s cottage forever. They still had to find their father, if he was even still alive. He opened his eyes and looked up. The fire had burned low, but it was still warm. There were some fir branches on the mantle above the fireplace. It was Christmas. A strange Christmas, to be sure.

The door of the cottage opened, and Young Thomas came in, carrying an armful of wood in one arm, and a bucket in the other. He smiled as he caught Gabriel watching him. “Good morning, and a happy Christmas,” he said. “Though I suppose I’m a little late in my wishing a happy Christmas, since it was already the day when I found you.”

Gabriel smiled back, and wished Young Thomas a happy Christmas. Jamie stirred, yawned, and woke up. He looked around him, bewildered. “Where are we?” he asked.

“We’re at Mr. Thomas’ cottage,” Gabriel told him. “He found us last night, remember?”

Jamie nodded. “Yes, and we were freezing,” he said quite calmly. He was only six; it was just an adventure to him. It did not fill him with fear to think about it, the way it filled Gabriel with fear.

“How about some breakfast?” Young Thomas asked. “Can you build a fire, Gabriel?”

Jamie sat cross-legged on the pile of furs, watching as Gabriel made a fire, and Young Thomas began taking things out of a cupboard. “Are we going to have more chocolate?” he asked.

“Jamie!” Gabriel scolded.

Young Thomas laughed. He had a very nice laugh, the boys thought. “But of course we are. It is Christmas, after all. Perhaps you would like to help me make it, young Jamie?”

Jamie was only too delighted. He climbed on a stool and mixed the chocolate as Young Thomas measured it out into a saucepan. “We haven’t had chocolate since Daddy went away,” he told Young Thomas.

Just as the chocolate was finished, there was a knock on the door. Young Thomas looked up from the bread he was slicing and said, “Will you see who that is, Gabriel? I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

Gabriel put down the poker and opened the door. A man stood there, bundled in warm garments to keep out the cold. Only his nose and eyes were showing, but there was something about those eyes that made Gabriel catch his breath.

“Gabriel,” the man said hoarsely, and held out his arms. Gabriel threw himself into the man’s arms. “Daddy!” he cried. “Oh, we’ve found you. Jamie! Jamie! Daddy’s here; we found him!”

Jamie gave a shriek, and fell off the stool in his hurry. His father hurried to him and swooped him up. “Is this really my little Jamie?” he asked. “You were so little when I left, no more than a baby.”

“But I remember you,” Jamie assured him. “I really do. You’re my daddy.”

“Yes, I am,” said his daddy.

“Breakfast is served,” Young Thomas said. “You will join us, won’t you, Sam?”

“I will,” Sam Owen said. “Especially considering that you came in the middle of the night to leave me a note inviting me to come to breakfast on Christmas morning. I thought you were crazy. I know for a fact that you are crazy, but I am most grateful to you.”

“Why are you here?” Gabriel asked when they had all settled to breakfast.

“I might ask you the same thing,” his father responded. “And since yours is the greater mystery, you must answer the question first.”

“Did you get our letter?” Gabriel asked. “The one about mummy?”

Sam nodded. “I did,” he said quietly. “It was forwarded to me from my last address. I am sorry I was not there. If I had known, I would have come back.”

“Mummy wouldn’t let us tell you she was sick,” Gabriel said. “She said it would only worry you, and you had so much to worry you already. But she died so suddenly. We didn’t think she would. And then we had to leave our house, because we couldn’t pay the rent, and we hadn’t heard from you in a while, and we didn’t have any money. We told the landlord that we would give him the money as soon as you sent it, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted to put us in an orphanage, so we ran away to find you. Everyone thought you were dead, but we knew you weren’t, and we had to find you.”

“And we were so cold, and hungry, and we didn’t have any money, and we almost froze,” Jamie put in. “Until Mr. Thomas found us, and he gave us chocolate. I thought he was an angel. You know, like the ones in the Christmas story in the Bible.”

Young Thomas smiled. “I certainly am no angel, but it must have been some angel that made me want to look in on my sheep.”

Sam nodded. “I shall be ever grateful to you, Thomas. I should scold you,” he said to his sons, “especially you, Gabriel, for doing such a foolish thing as to set out alone to find me.”

“You oughtn’t to scold him,” Jamie protested. “He was very good to me, and he took such good care of me. He gave me all the food; I saw him. He only ate a little bit, and he sang me songs at night when I was scared.”

Sam smiled at his youngest son. “I was going to say, little chatterbox, that though I ought to scold Gabriel, I find I cannot. You were brave, my boy, and I am proud of you for taking such good care of your little brother. I am most glad that you are both here now, and I do not have to worry about you any longer. And now, I’ll tell you what I am doing here. I was traveling around looking for work, as you know, until I became ill. That was here, and Thomas here cared for me until I was well enough to find work. That is why you did not hear from me for a while. When I was better I found work, good, steady work. Young Thomas and I have been friends ever since I came, and it was he who helped me to find work.”

Jamie surveyed their host with a critical eye. “I do think you are an angel,” he said. “In the Bible, angels always dress up as men and do nice things for people. Are you sure you’re not an angel?”

Young Thomas laughed. “That I am quite sure of.”

Jamie sighed. “Oh well. It would be rather nice to known an angel. Can I have some more chocolate?”

“May I have some more chocolate,” Gabriel and his father both absently corrected, and laughed at each other as Young Thomas served more chocolate all around.

“Are we going to live here?” Gabriel asked.

 “That we are,” his father said. “I have bought a house. I was going to send for you all when I had enough money saved up. I sent you a letter, but I suppose you did not get it, since you have been trying to find me. The house is not far from here, and there is a garden, and a pond, and a stable.”

“I’m glad,” said Jamie, “because then we can come and see Mr. Thomas whenever we want.”

“You are always welcome,” Young Thomas assured him.

“Don’t be too quick to welcome him,” Gabriel warned. “He will be here at all hours of the day. I think he just wants to find out if you have wings hidden away somewhere.”

“Daddy, are we going to have a real Christmas?” Jamie asked. “You know, with a tree, and presents, and all sorts of good things to eat?”

“Well, I do have a tree waiting to be trimmed at our house, and I was able to get a small ham several weeks ago. I think we might have a real Christmas. And I do have some small things for you boys. I was going to send them, but I haven’t had the chance.”

Jamie cheered and leapt about the room in delight. Gabriel just sat still and smiled. He already had a real Christmas. He had his little brother safe and warm, his father beside him, and the prospect of a real house where they might live forever and ever if they wanted to. He was warm and full and happy, and outside the snow fell on a cold Christmas morning.