A Confession, a Broken Engagement and a Wealthy Marriage
By Andrea F. Phillips
One day, in Belle Époque Paris, a young man and woman, prominent in Parisian society, entered a church seeking to go to confession in preparation for their wedding.
The young man was in and out of the confessional. Blinking in the soft light, he made a hasty genuflection in the direction of the main altar, and as he turned to leave, realized his bride was not hanging on his arm. He slid back into the pew, and as the minutes passed, he grew impatient. When, finally, after half an hour, the girl emerged from behind a velvet curtain, he said irritably, “You took so long!”
On her explaining that she wished to prepare well for this important step in their lives, he gave voice to his displeasure with a wife-to-be who took half an hour to confess her sins.
Days later, opening a drawer in her secretary, and dipping her quill in a fine ink well, the young woman penned a few lines on a piece of stationary. Removing a ring from her finger, she enclosed it with the note.
The engagement broken off, Paris hummed with the gossip, and the story made it to print.
Somewhere in the “City of Light,” a wealthy merchant opened his newspaper and read, “High Society Engagement Broken Over Confession.”
“Hmm…” he thought, “the fool had a diamond in his hand and didn’t know it…a woman who prepares herself so conscientiously for a life commitment will take her husband and children seriously. This person knows the meaning of the word ‘trust.’” And he took steps to be introduced to the lady. A courtship soon developed. The merchant proposed, was accepted, and they were married.
At their wedding, again Parisian society hummed, this time with loud clinks and hearty congratulations. The bride’s long confession had attracted her not only a worthy husband, but a wealthy one!
References: Based on a true story taken from Anecdotes and Examples Illustrating the Catholic Catechism by Rev. Francis Spirago.
DAILY QUOTE for September 17, 2021
SAINT OF THE DAY
St. Robert Bellarmine
There was once a priest who had a special devotion to the sorrows of Mary. He would often remain alone in the chapel to commiserate the sorrows of his Lady.