By Marian Brennen Pratt
The Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (IHM) had inherited a vacation property on the shores of Lake Erie in Canada. We heard about this at the beginning of summer and part of the deal to get to use it was that somebody in the group had to contact a nun that they were related to and that nun had to agree to be responsible for the group. I contacted my cousin June Johnson, Sister Richardine and we were in.
The place was a large structure, resembling a hotel but with several very small bedrooms making it much like a convent which seemed a real coincidence. It also had a kitchen, a big meeting room and a porch off the first-floor roof.
There was to be a retreat on the first day. On the schedule was a trust walk. We were told to choose a partner. I found out too late that he was the only one left, so I stepped up and gingerly took his hand and informed him that I was his partner. He looked down at me – way down – I am 5’3” and from my perspective he looked to be 6’9” or 10”. He suddenly developed this big grin and asked my name. He said he was Dick. I decided right away that this was a good-natured soul.
As the trust walk began, I led him toward the water. There was a red “bandit” handkerchief covering his eyes and he let me lead him along the shore with the lapping water chasing down and taking over his sandals from time to time. He didn’t resist but he didn’t have the same giggling appreciation for the exercise that I had. It appeared that I was the only one who had tackled 6 steps and struck out for the lake with my unsuspecting victim. But I was serious and really wanted to know about this trust thing. In a place where he should be able to trust somebody he didn’t know, would he? Or would he not? At the end of the walk, I led him over to the same 6 steps which would take us away from the lake and up to the bonfire where the guests were all gathering around.
We were the last ones back since I had gotten so involved in splashing in the water with my new friend that when I was hurrying to get back, I regrettably let him stub his toe on the bottom step. As he told everyone back at the fire later. I neglected to warn him that he was approaching a possible “Ouchy”. One other thing I found out then was that he was a Catholic Priest and the Chaplain for our group. OH BOY!! We seldom saw one another that he didn’t wind up telling somebody about his experience with the “Trust Walk”.
Father Richard Mevesson who is a Redemptorist priest became a good friend to those of us who were members of Beginning Experience, a group initiated by the Catholic Church for divorced, and widowed Catholics from the Archdiocese of Detroit. At a time when the Catholic Church is living through a horrific time, it is important that we recognize that there are still many good priests out there. Father Dick married some of our kids, he baptized our babies and he helped us bury our dead for several years. He said special masses for us, heard our confessions and traveled to international meetings and conventions with us. E.g.: One of our members was hospitalized during a convention having to do with heat stroke. It was true, that it was not too serious, but while the women all stayed by the patient at the hospital, the men all went out to dinner, Rev Mev included. We said to each other: He might have been a great priest and a good friend, but he was also just a guy not unlike all other guys.
GOOD TIMES
