New Believers Of God

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

A funeral mass was held at St. Maragret Mary's later that week.

Nearly everybody from my grade was there, including the guys. All the pews were completely filled, and there were still more people than they could hold. Some even had to stand in the back.

A large, framed picture of Holly stood at the front, right where she and I once sat when we served. At the very bottom of it was her full name, as well as her birth and death year.

When the service began, the pallbearers carried her casket down the center aisle, with Father Stanley walking behind them, and her parents behind him. Both of them were visibly crying, not even attempting to hide it. We could hear them loud and clear, and as soon as I caught sight, the waterworks started for me all over again.

After reaching the platform, the pallbearers placed the casket on a stand and sat down themselves, as did her parents. Father Stanley on the other hand stood next to it and began speaking once the music ended.

"In the name of the father, and to the son, and to the holy spirit." he said, touching his forehead, chest, and shoulders as he did so, which the rest of us repeated in return.

"Amen." we said back.

"Almighty, all-powerful God," he continued "You rule the living and the dead and are compassionate to all. At this hour, I humbly pray that those we remember today may receive forgiveness of sins through your mercy."

I for one could testify that Holly was the last person to need forgiveness of sins. She was without a doubt the most honest, good-hearted person you could know, which only made this situation all the more awful. Somebody with a personality like hers should deserve to live forever.

"Folks," he began "We gather here today to honor the life of Ms. Holly McKenna."

Even Father Stanley, an ordained priest who had probably done this process a thousand times, was getting choked up himself. I imagined it was because he knew Holly personally, not to mention, the fact that someone as young as her died in such a sudden and tragic way.

He then followed with a scripture.

"My brothers and sisters," he said "I do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's word, we tell you that those who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore, encourage one another with these words."

I understood what he was saying by that, but I wasn't so sure I believed it at that moment. If that was really true, that there would really be a coming of the Lord, why couldn't Holly get to be here for it, and not one of "those who have fallen asleep" as he put it? She deserved to be on earth, together with her family, not up there without them. I knew he was just trying to make the situation better, but in this case, I simply didn't find that possible. I didn't think you could sugarcoat something like this, no matter how you looked at it. An eleven-year-old girl had prematurely lost her life, and that was the only God's honest truth there was.

I continued to watch as the service carried on, doing my absolute best to hold back my emotions until it concluded. When we reached that point, Father Stanley walked to the casket again, this time while holding a thurible of incense, much like he had done on Christmas Eve.

"Into your hands, oh Lord, I commend thy spirit." he said, shaking the thurible around it while doing so. Sealing it forever in smoke.

Many attendants made their way over after he finished, where they left bouquets of flowers to pay their final respects. I too walked over as well, but instead of flowers, I pulled out the unopened hoodie I had bought her and placed it on top of the pile.

That was the closest I would ever get to giving it to her.