confession and Mass yesterday and in the confessional, the visiting priest had a most beautiful foreign accent of unknown origin. I just couldn’t place it although I had heard it many times on t.v. and in film. I asked the women I was with if they recognized it and they said they did not.
After confession was over, I went over to where the priest was getting ready and I told him directly that he had a beautiful accent and I asked him where he was from. To my complete surprise, and embarrassment, he said in a perfect Midwestern accent that he was from eastern Nebraska. (The same part of the country where I was from!) I thanked him and went back to my pew. How embarrassing!
He delivered his homily and the rest of the Mass in a perfect Midwestern accent. I could have sworn he had a very pronounced foreign accent in the confessional.
On the drive home from the Church, I was getting the feeling that the other three women in the car felt that I was headed for Hell and not part of their group. That they thought they were better than me spiritually and that I didn’t belong to their little group. Later that evening, my friend on the phone, asked me how I knew all of that. I told her that I just “knew”. She told me, “So, you are reading their minds are you?” I said, “yeah”.