My LORD, this tribulation that you have placed before me may be the most challenging yet.
My duties as Abbot of St. Mary's Convent include upholding my celibacy, as you are aware. To serve you well, I must be without a partner or lover. However, the newest addition to our community makes it difficult. She is a pious woman, hardworking and diligent, yet our interactions leave me both wanting and curious.
Some months ago, a young woman was brought to me by the sisterhood. Her situation was desperate, as she was homeless, hungry, and caught attempting to steal our prized chalices. I implemented your instructions in your word to deal with her firm and swiftly, but before I could do anything, she began to cry. In her story, she told me about the time that she spent alone and forgotten after both of her parents died, her inability to obtain a job that paid well, and her eventual eviction and rough life on the streets. As I looked at her, I realized that she needed guidance, and instead chose to let her into our sisterhood. The Convent of St. Mary would be her guiding hand.
At first, the newly christened Sister Dolores was pugnacious and callous when adapting to routine. It was common for her to forget prayers, be late to scheduled meetings among the sisters, and treat all and sundry with hostility. There were many concerns that the sisterhood had expressed to me involving her, and I knew I needed to intervene. I could reach her.
In the evening, I went to her barracks to speak with her in my chambers. Initially, she refused, so I had to threaten her with expulsion. I regretfully did not approach her with as much compassion as I should have, but regardless, she had acquiesced and followed me.
Together, we discussed a wide range of topics. She seemed regretful when I had mentioned the discontent brewing within the community. In some way, we had gotten personal. My intent was never to initiate anything, but our conversation had turned intimate. Knowing what might happen then, I politely asked her to leave at the first opportunity. At first, I was perplexed at how such a thing occurred, but from that moment on, it was always there. Sister Dolores and I were—and are—very close.
From what I could tell, the rest of the sisterhood remained unaware as Dolores and I grew closer. She would write poems addressed to me. We shared secrets. Even though she was a mature adult, I felt like I was responsible for taking care of her. My love for her grew stronger every day.
The final straw came one winter's night when she came to my quarters, her eyes red and cheeks flushed from weeping. I tried to console her with Your word, but she didn't want to listen. Instead, she begged me to listen. In tears, she confessed that her feelings for me were more than platonic friendship, and if I was willing to accept them, then she wanted nothing more than to be my lover. I was distraught. How was this fair? After all these years of living a pious life, resisting base carnal cravings, and now I'm presented with a woman—a wonderous lady in Dolores, who feels the same way I do. Was it wrong to want to calm her worries with my affirmations of devotion?
LORD, I must confess—even now, this sin troubles me. I am a man of the cloth and vowed my entire life to Your service. I have never strayed from Your word, yet I've fallen in love with Dolores and swayed by my base desires. If You grant me forgiveness, I will continue to serve You as best I can. However, if you find that I have been unfaithful, please show mercy and forgive me. Particularly in light of my subsequent actions.
In a moment of weakness, I pressed my lips to hers. Despite our vows, the feeling was too strong. It was as though Dolores had touched me with fire, so much so that I couldn't control myself any longer. At first, she resisted, but eventually, she yielded. The act was brief, and after only a few seconds, she pulled away, looking frightened.
Distraught, I began to apologize, but she then shut her eyes. My words froze in my throat at such an unforeseen riposte. She wrinkled her eyebrows in determination, then opened her eyes, staring directly at me. I'll never forget what she said: "Father, please…" Her voice shook with fear, shame, and passion. "Please, Father, kiss me again."
Before I could react, she