I read the sentence to Joey’s booklet and frowned.
“I also want my mom to get a real and good job so we can have lots of money for things. This is what will make my family better.”
A real and good job? I had a real job. And it wasn’t just good, it was great! Whatever made him think that the place I worked five, sometimes six, days a week, and occasionally at odd hours wasn’t real?
Surely he had heard these comments made by his older brother and was mimicking them. Either way, they both needed to be set straight.
My so-called “pretend” job involves working at a Catholic church in Manchester. I couldn’t help but wonder if they had come to this ridiculous conclusion because I love going to work every day. Somehow, we have equated a working job with something to be unpleasant, but necessary, to make a living.
But my job has brought me nothing but happiness and joy since I started it nearly a year ago. I run the office, and my duties are many and varied. With the recent departure of the liturgical director, they have expanded to include not just the administrative tasks, but the liturgical essentials as well.
With a small group of volunteers, we decorated the entire church for the Christmas season and will take on the daunting task of putting Christmas away now that the Epiphany has passed. Our church sees, on average, two funerals each month, sometimes more. I coordinate with the funeral home the arrangements to be made and assist at the Mass itself.
I take care of the permanent records and getting certificates drawn up and delivered to the recipients, from new baptisms to somebody who is tracking his descendants.
I field the many phone calls that come in from people inquiring about our food pantry. I create and maintain the literature about our church, including the weekly bulletin, brochures, flyers and special event notices.