Read I Shall Not Want for Free Online

eight or nine men sharing a space.”
    “Wow.” Clare pushed her plate away so she could prop her elbow on the table, a bad habit she had never gotten rid of. “That sounds amazingly challenging. And worthwhile.”
    Sister Lucia nodded. “I’m glad you see that. Now I just have to find some congregations to partner with me.”
    “Doesn’t your order support your mission financially?”
    “I get a modest amount. And by modest, I mean it’s swathed in a burka, unseen by human eye.”
    Clare laughed.
    “No, the problem is, we’re stretched thin up here in the North Country. Small parishes, every priest responsible for two or three of them, donations down… Without the bishop behind me, my tiny little mission’s needs get squashed on the bottom of the pile every time.”
    “Let me help you.”
    The nun sat back in her seat. “I beg your pardon?”
    “I have some friends at the Episcopal Development Fund. This sounds like just their sort of thing: small, grassroots, helping individuals in a tangible way.”
    Sister Lucia’s face was a mixture of interest and doubt. “There is a spiritual component to the work, you know. It’s definitely Catholic. Spanish-language Masses and all.”
    Clare grinned. “Not to worry. In the Episcopal Church, we are all over the ecumenical like white on rice. In fact, we
are
kinda the white on rice.”
    The waitress replaced their empty plates with fat slices of cheesecake. “Coffee?” She held up a pot.
    “Absolutely,” Clare said. Sister Lucia demurred, then watched with amusement as Clare emptied packet after packet of sugar into her cup. “I may be able to round up a few bodies for you as well.” Clare reached for her spoon. “We’ve had an uptick in our membership over the past year, younger people—” they could hardly be older, since the average age when she arrived at St. Alban’s had been fifty-seven—“who haven’t found a spot in our current volunteer programs. I think your mission might be just the thing.” Her spoon
ting-ting-ting
ed in the cup as she stirred clockwise, then counterclockwise. “When I started my ministry, I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to get anyone to reach out to the marginalized among us. But I’ve come to believe it’s not that people are unwilling, it’s that they just don’t see them. Look at me. I’ve lived here over two years without knowing about any of these workers.” She looked at the nun confidingly. “I didn’t really want to come to this luncheon. Now I’m so glad I did.”
    Sister Lucia smiled. “Do you always leap into things so… ah… decisively?”
    “You bet,” Clare said. “I’m not sure if it’s a virtue or a flaw, but after thirty-six years, I’ve come to accept it’s who I am.” She took a sip of her coffee and sighed as the heat and sugar and caffeine hit her. “And thank you.”
    “For what?”
    “For calling it
decisiveness
instead of ‘jumping in without thinking things through.’ ”
    “Oh, I see it as fearlessness.” The nun glanced at Clare’s left hand, bare of rings. “You’re not married.”
    Clare shook her head.
    “Partnered?”
    “No! I mean, no.… I’m not.”
    Sister Lucia patted her hand. “Not meaning to be nosy. It’s just that I’ve found one of the great benefits of the celibate life is fearlessness. Especially for women. You can see what needs to be done and do it, without fear of how it’s going to affect your family or your reputation.” Where she had been patting, she squeezed, hard. “Don’t let anybody convince you it’s a flaw. We need more fearless women following Christ, not less.”
     
     
     
IV
     
     
    On the way back to Millers Kill, she and Deacon Aberforth had to stop at a
    Citgo station to gas up. When she went inside to pay—leaving the deacon muttering about the wasteful extravagance of the tricked-out Hummer taking up almost two spaces at the next pump over—there were five young Hispanic men getting sodas in the back.