Today at Charles de Gaulle Airport, I found myself in a predicament: defending a seat from an oblivious traveller determined to sit on an unexpected surprise. Laughter ensued, but so did a lesson in humility.
Then she took pity on me and said I should punish myself. I said I would say the Hail Mary. Little did I know, it would turn into a marathon of devotion. Normally, I expected her to ask me to say three to ten Hail Marys, but she brought out those beads and asked me to say five decades. I cried because then five decades felt like five million decades.
I mean who would want to shout on a GenZ singing amid all these Grandmas? I was to be pampered so that I would keep showing up. But, Grumpy Old Lady liked her spot, but she didn’t want to talk to me, so she complained to the choirmaster, who asked her to tell me to move. I waited for her to do as instructed, but she didn’t. The choir master looked at me, I innocently looked away as if I was confused, but stood my sacred ground.
God — my Flatmate
Yes, I, Olu, an average girl with average problems, have the extraordinary luck (or misfortune, depending on the day) of having God as my roommate. Yes, the actual Almighty.