In Nomine Patris et Filii Spiritus Sanctus Ignis

Listen, we’ve ALL done things that we are not proud of. Things that were completely out of our control. The Fates, Gods, and Destiny hae already predetermined you to fuck up certain situations and there’s nothing you can do about it.

I was in New York City with an ex boyfriend, and we were doing the general tourist thing and took the double decker bus tour around the city. We spent a day in the financial district and after lunch we took pictures of the Wall Street Bull and the Fearless Girl. Then I looked across the park and saw Trinity Church.

I love architecture, I've studied it and love comparing the buildings in NYC because it’s such an eclectic city. So, we went over and I spent about an hour touring the church and graveyard. My ex sat in a pew for most of the time and was on his phone looking at places to go to next.

I promised my great-grandmother a long time ago that whenever I go to church, I’d light a candle for her and my great-grandfather. So, I donated a few bucks and waited behind an older couple to light a candle.

When I arrived in front of the display of candles I realized something that I should have considered before; I’ve never actually lit a candle in a church before.

Every time I’ve gone to church has been with family and we all lit one or two candles as a groups and it was usually the oldest in the group that did it.

I stood there, starting to sweat a little, and deduced what I needed to do. I would have googled but I left my phone with my ex.

A German family appeared behind me and they were staring at me like “Pfft look at this stupid American, can’t even light a candle.”

I grabbed the little communal stick and held it against a flame, it lit!

I looked back at the family like “Hah, I’ve got this. Who’s stupid now?”

I lit two candles, now very proud of myself for lighting two candles all by myself, which in hindsight sounds really fucking stupid but at the moment it was big.

As I bring the stick forward, I blow on it and it stays lit.

“Alright.” I had resorted to whispering to myself.

I blew on the stick again, and the flame got bigger and started traveling the length of the flammable stick.

I glanced behind me at the bowl of Holy Water and thought about dunking it in there, but the German family was blocking it and I wasn’t sure if that was gonna be a bad omen and I’d be cursed and thrown out of the church.

The flame was getting closer to my hand and I tried shaking it as discreetly as I could without the judgemental German family noticing. Obviously, that didn’t work. Their smallest child ratted me out to their parents.

I tried one more time to blow it out, and I sent a little prayer of thanks to God because the flame finally went out. I put the stick back in the jar with the other sticks and walked away.

My ex was waiting by the door and looked behind me.

“What’s going on back there?”

I turned and the German family was holding the jar of sticks and one of them had started smoking and glowing.

“We have to leave right now.” I grabbed his arm and led him out the door.

“What did you do?” He muttered as I shoved him toward the bus.

“Nothing!”

“Did you try to burn down the church?”

“First of all, it didn’t burn down and that’s what matters in the end.”

Yes, I checked my phone several times for news flashes that one of the oldest churches in NYC wasn’t burnt down.

The most stressful 8 hours of my life.

I could hear the ghosts of my great grandparents guilting me, they were even thanking God for intervening and not letting me burn down the church.

The moral of this story is, dunk the burning stick in the Holy Water if you can’t blow it out.