My Lordship,
SITUATION REPORT ON THE JUST CONCLUDED CHILDREN, YOUTH/ADULT HARVEST AND BAZAAR
First of all, I want to congratulate you for your recent installation as the bishop of this diocese. From your early days as a seminarian and even as a priest, I have known that you will do mighty exploits in the kingdom of God through the Roman Catholic Church, in that regard I say more flame to your fire.
The advent of the bazaar has been in anticipation by the parishioners and visitors for so long; in fact since December of last 2013. Chains of collection were mapped out by the bazaar’s offering architects. Collections were mostly made on last Sundays of the month. As a philosophical man or a salary payer to the church workers you will understand what I mean by ‘last Sunday of every month.’ After salaries must have been paid on Friday and still intact in the pocket waiting to be deposited in the bank on Monday, the catechist will mount the pulpit to say ‘brothers and sisters, glory glory to Jesus’, after our response he will plead with the congregation to generously donate for the success of the forthcoming harvest.
Those sitting in the front row, who may be completely filled with piety extravaganza would always rush out to give to the Lord, even before the announcement ends for the collection. This is usually accompanied with melodious songs from the 8:00am St. Cecilia’s choir. The call for second offertory kept coming on every Sunday from last year until March of this year. The bazaar-know-how committee had earlier addressed the church in April that second collection for the bazaar would be every Sunday and financial report about that Sunday’s collection would be given during announcement of the next Sundays.
His Lordship, after that announcement I bought a big brand new hard cover book and a carton of blue ink pen. I began to take records of each Sunday’s collection. Although it looked and seemed stupid, but I had to keep records because I perceived a rat far away. I decided to play smart by keeping records for retrieval on the day of reckoning. My Lord, despite the stress of coming to church early and attending all masses every week to get a proper seat for clear listening from the faulty Public Address System for a good record of figures, I still made it. I got a detailed entry of all collections, thanksgivings and pledges that were made. Finally we waited for the day of all days, which was to us the parish’s Christmas.
October 26th’s alarm woke me up smiling like never before, after all the preparations to church; I endured all the sequential thanksgiving. We moved to the church hall which was the harvest event centre for the celebration of the season; although it was hilarious, I still took my record book, from the mass to the bazaar venue. I took a detailed record of sales and finally the event came to an end with the closing prayer by the Parish Pastoral Chairman.
Two weeks later, after all the bazaar trauma, I don’t know if I was in a trance or an illusion but probably it was real, one of the ex-bazaar committee members came out to say "dear parishioners we did not realize enough money from our previous harvest and bazaar, so please we need your unending donation." The whole congregation were astonished, and to my greatest surprise, NOBODY donated. My Lordship, you will probably know why I was day dreaming or startled, because I had the complete record at hand and the total amount of the millions in my head. Highly infuriated I stood up, went to the altar, took a slow bow, and I gave my personal financial records of the harvest/bazaar happenings because I felt it was time for the congregation to know the truth about the actual amount of money that was realised. while I was announcing it, I saw the guilty ones burying their heads in shame while upholders of the truth applauded me. After my analysis, the Parish Priest ex-communicated me from the church as he considered my act inappropriate and ungodly.
As a man of high theological knowledge, I want you my Lord to be the Judge over this issues and intervene promptly.
Yours faithfully,
Adrian Danbaba.
A concerned ex-parishioner.
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