Involuntary Parenthood

“You know what my dream is?” Father Pavel was speaking to several dozen middle-aged men and women, all surrounded by children, some of whom were their own, some foster children. We were gathered in a small cafeteria attached to the church to celebrate Easter Week. The surroundings were monastically austere: wooden benches, simple fare on the table – juice and pies made by those in attendance.

“That we will gather together again tomorrow!” a cheerful boy calls out jokingly. Everyone laughs warmly, but Father Pavel smiles patiently and gives the correct answer.

“That you would all grow up, get married, have children and live in Vozdvizhenye!”