“Father, as head of the Parish Finance Council I think I can speak for the whole board when I say the repairs to the plaster in the old church ceiling is rather a priority. If we don’t place God first, then what are we here for?”
“Terry, I agree with you,” said Father scratching is beard. “There is nothing I would like more. But ever since the janitor admitted to projecting the image of the Blessed Virgin on the wall, the money has completely dried up. We have seven empty buildings that nobody wants to buy. Two empty parking decks for a place that barely needs any additional parking on the street, and a quickly deteriorating financial balance. I just don’t think it is responsible to spend that kind of money on something ornamental.”
“Firstly, it is hardly ornamental. Damaged plaster means a leak in the roof! It will only get worse and more expensive,” replied his Council chair.
One of the young people on the council sighed. “I wish there was some magical person we could ask for money from.”
“DON’T SAY THAT!” Fr. Andrews said a bit too vehemently.
“I was just joking.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I am just a little stressed these days.”
“It’s still a great parish,” said one of the other members. “Somehow we will see it through.”
“I’m sure we will,” said the pastor with little enthusiasm.
A few days later, Fr. Andrews and his dog were once again on the ill fated path with the object of going on a walk. “Oh no,” Father thought to himself, “not them again.” He thought of turning and walking the other way but there was no point. “Good evening ladies.”
They said in unison, “Hello Father.” They sat once again, not looking up. They were all quiet for a while and then one of the voices said, “Quite a sticky wicket you seem to have at the parish.”
“Quite,” he thought out loud trying not to think to much.
The other voice said, “You know you still have one more wish.”
“Don’t I know it,” said Father Andrews.
“What is it that you desire?” asked the first.
“Listen. I appreciate all that you have done. You have always exceeded my expectations and I really can’t complain. But if it is all the same to you, I’m just going to let things be and trust God to see us through whatever happens. It may be good, it may be ill, but I will just trust Him take care of it. No more of this engineering my fate. Even when it is successful it seems kind of empty.”
“No. Thank you. No. And God bless.” He started to walk away when he heard, with his ears, “Awesome!” He turned back to see the two girls standing, smiling, and overjoyed.
“What? What’s going on?”
“Finally we met someone who decided not to use all of their wishes but to live the life they have and get through it the best they can with God. That only took - what?” She looked at the other girl.
“Seven hundred some odd years?”
“I don’t understand,” said the priest.
The second took over. “We were doomed to be wish granters by a witch who was tired of us always complaining that we wished life was better. So to spite us, she made us wish granters and we would only be released when we came across someone who would give up their wishes and be satisfied with the life they had. You, Father, are the first.”
“To be fair,” the other said, “this was the first time we teamed up. Otherwise you might not have made it.”
“What will you do now?” The priest asked in amazement.
“Well,” they looked at each other and nodded, and one said, “let’s find out more about this Jesus fellow you represent. If was able to make you satisfied with the life that was handed you, maybe there is something from Him we might learn.”
And the three of them and the dog headed off into the woods.