Page 8 - SpontaneousSuccessMatos

Boarding school, a stifling world of starched
uniforms and meticulously polished shoes, where I spent
last night hunched over an ironing board, coaxing
creases from rebellious fabric and buffing leather to a
mirror shine, all in the desperate hope of eliciting a
flicker of pride from the parents I rarely saw. Would they
even be here, I wondered, my gaze darting nervously
across the rows of unfamiliar faces, searching for a
familiar smile, a reassuring presence.
"Today you are confirming the promises your parents
made on your behalf at your baptism," the Bishop
declared. I sneaked a few peeks behind me. But no mum,
no dad, no brother. "In confirmation we are
acknowledging we need to turn away from selfishness
and accept God's offer of a new start."
What new start?
Half an hour later I was alone on the steps of Saint
Michael's Anglican Church wondering why none of my
family had come to support me, and more importantly,
whisk me away for the day to celebrate the big occasion.
Any excuse to escape from boarding school.
Half an hour earlier there had been music and singing
and people and glory. Now it was just me feeling stupid,
sitting on the steps of the church wondering what to do.
My options weren't great.
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