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| The virgin and the saints |
Both my parents were brought up in the catholic faith and as such both had been christened, had their 1st communion and had been confirmed. My mum had even considered becoming a nun when at the age of 14 she contracted tuberculosis and spent 18 months recovering in a Sanatorium belonging to a religious order and run by nuns. Both my grandmothers were avid church goers with my dad’s mum being almost what some would consider a fanatic. Every day she would get up and pray before anything else! After lunch she would pray the Rosary and again after dinner. Finally before going to sleep she would pray again. She would also tell you something was a sin at the drop of a hat! Things like eating to many sweets, playing with boys (and I really mean just child playing), or wearing short skirts (including when you are 4 years old!) were sins! Not eating all the food in your plate or going to bed the moment your mum says so were sins too. Looking back anything that could possibly annoy or in any way displease your parents was a sin! And while nowadays you may get grounded or get your playstation confiscated, in my dad’s childhood home, you would jeopardise your afterlife and take the risk of going straight to hell!
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| Wall Rosary |
The house was also like a church. There were altars with Saints in every room and above each bed hanged a huge wall rosary. Now the good thing about being catholic was that you could always do what you wanted, as providing you went to confession (when you go into a cubicle and tell a priest all your sins in private and say sorry), paid your penitence (a number of prayers to clean your soul prescribed by the priest according to your sins) and had communion, your sins would be forgiven and you would be given a clean slate. The other thing that I believe played an important role in children’s decision making of whether to sin or not was the common statement that God always takes the good ones early. If that was true then you didn’t want to be too good otherwise you might be gone before your time. But what if you were too bad and God still took you before you had a chance to go to confession? Well then there was always purgatory, a place where you sit and wait while your family in this side pray and burn candles until your soul is purified and you get your entry ticket to paradise.
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last supper painting |
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The guardian angel picture |
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In my mum’s childhood home things were not as austere. There was a last supper painting in the dining area and small altar in my Nan’s room. Above the bed in my auntie’s old room, hanged a beautiful picture of a guardian angel and 2 children. I was mesmerised by that picture and was over the moon years later to find a miniature copy in a bookshop in Fatima. My Nan taught me my first prayer by that picture and it is a prayer I still say everyday to this day.
She also had a beautiful picture of Saint Teresa hanging in the sitting area which has now lost most of its colour but still hangs in my daughter’s room. It was given to my Nan on the occasion of her first holy communion so it is almost 80 years old. It has no market value but it holds an immense sentimental value in my heart.
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| Our Lady of Incarnation |
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| My old school and the church opposite |
I was christened on the 9th of august 1975 in the church on Our Lady of Incarnation in Lisbon. At 1 year and 4 months it must be said that I was quite old by traditional standards but still. My Godparents were Pepe (I think his real name was Josepe, he was Spanish), a bar/brothel owner and his wife Joana, a former prostitute gone straight. Not by any means the traditional God fearing citizens but nice people of which I will tell you more about in another chapter. Even though I was christened, later in my childhood I didn’t go to catechism or do my 1st holy communion.
When I started school, my school was opposite the Church of Saint Catherine, and a kind old priest would often come to visit us and remind us of how important the attendance of catechism would be. He really was like the perfect stereotypical kind old priest, with snow white hair, round glasses hanging at the tip of his nose, sparkling bright eyes, huge big smile, wearing an immaculate black cassock, in the winter a black cape and a round hat. I took the information home to my parents, but although they said I could go, they never did anything about it. So a lot of my friends did their first holy communion but I didn’t. Nevertheless I had a faith in my heart that was enormous. I loved Jesus and truly believed in his power and mercy. From the age of 7, I was allowed to walk home from school alone and every day before going home I would go and visit the church opposite.
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| The Statue of the fallen Jesus |
There, just by the entrance stood a life size statue of the falling Jesus. I would kneel by it and contemplate the suffering on his face. I felt so sorry for Our Lord and promised to always be good. I also use to pray for forgiveness of my sins and the sins of others. At that time I didn’t know any prayers besides one to the guardian angel my Nan Teresa had taught me and that I said faithfully every night before going to sleep. Nevertheless I used my own words and prayed from my heart, until I discovered an amazing place – the library! One of the first books I took out was a prayer book and in no time I could say the Hail Mary and the Our Father. Next I learned the sign of the cross, the Gloria and the Hail Queen, and finally I could pray the Rosary. Until I left that school at the age of 10 I must have gone to that church every school day. It did something for me. I felt safe, warm and happy there. After going to prep school I was no longer close to a church so my visits to the fallen Jesus stopped all together but I started having Religion lessons in school and I learned about the life of Jesus and the apparitions of Fatima.
By the time I was 12 and went to Secondary school my faith was tested for the first time. I started being bullied first by name calling later by being hit or spat on occasionally. Sometimes I would just ignore it, but sometimes it was too much. In those times I would live school and go to a church opposite Our Lady of Mercy. There hidden from everyone I would pray and many times cry and beg for it all to go away. Unfortunately after 3 years I decided that Jesus wasn’t listening. Not because he didn’t care but maybe because he was busy with world famine and other plagues. So I developed a life outside school and started playing truant. I went wild! I Started smoking, wearing makeup, being loud and obnoxious, disrespecting my teachers, lying, cheating on tests, you name it. For one year I did what I wanted to do and going to school was bottom of my priorities. Now I had friends and boyfriends. I was not scared anymore or desperate to fit in. One year later however after a consistent straight A school report from the age of 6 I miserably failed on 6 out of 12 subjects. The fear was unbearable. I thought my dad would kill me so on the day I had to tell him I once again went to church and asked for strength to face my dad. I think God heard me because he didn’t hit me. He didn’t even shout, not then anyway. My brother Paulo and his wife were there for support and they tried to explain to my parents that sometimes teenager just go off the rails a little as they want to experiment new things. They seemed to listen and as I cried, begged for forgiveness and promised to never do it again they decided to give me another chance.
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| Church of the Italians |
That summer I went back to church and decided to do my 1st holy communion. I went alone to see a priest in the Italian church and explained I never had any catechism lessons but really wanted to do my 1st holy communion. He took me to his confessionary and asked me several questions about the life of Jesus. Then he asked me to recite the important prayers. When I finished he said he was happy for me to have communion after confession. He told me to go home and examine my conscience and come back 2 days later to confess my sins and be given penitence. I did just that and a week later without telling anyone I dressed in a pale pink dress my mum had made for my 16th birthday, attended mass and took my first holy communion. After that I had regular communion and confession for about a month and even starting considering the idea of going into a convent to become a nun. After 4 weeks however something happen that made me feel differently. Not about God and Jesus, but about the church. I went to confession and the priest started probing about intimate sexual stuff. Perverted things that I hadn’t even thought about, let alone done. I started thinking that the priest’s mind was worse than many sinners and to top it up I then found out that the priest in Fafe, for whom one of my aunties worked, was indeed her lover and also a very mercenary, greedy and wicked man. At the same time I developed an interest in reincarnation and mystic stuff so I decided to invent my own personal religion. Which was, be good to others, love God and Jesus, focus not on what you do but what is the intention behind it, and trust in God’s plan, even if you feel sad or confused, place your trust in Him and it will become clear later in your life. And through my life I have followed these basic beliefs. I still like going to church. I don’t attend mass but will go and visit Jesus every now and then.
