Ash Wednesday


Lord, why don’t I feel your presence
when I am in class trying to learn Spanish
being annoyed by that other student
who dominates the class
thinking that she knows it all,
correcting the rest of us,
and looking at her watch when it is my turn to talk?
Why should this bother me?
Why can’t I see her as one of your precious children
beloved and cherished,
instead of as a pompous ass who is putting a damper
on what had been a pretty good experience?

Would it really have been that difficult to have made this week as enjoyable as the first,
so that I could leave this place with warm feeling of gratitude
instead of the annoyance that has overtaken me like a dark cloud?
I count the days and hours until I get to go home,
and instead of focusing on uses of tricky words like
ser and estar, por and para,
I’m thinking about how slighted I feel and
how out of place and alone I feel here.
Is this your idea of a joke?
A mean trick to play on this Ash Wednesday
as we enter the holy season of Lent?

I know your timing is perfect, and nothing happens by chance.
In the comfort of my room,
I can see the bright side of this
and view it as a blessing that I now have two teachers
instead of just one.
In class, it’s not so easy.

I came here to study Spanish with a Mexican teacher,
the French Canadian wasn’t part of the bargain.
The first teaches me to conjugate Spanish words for “to accept” and “to love”,
the second challenges me to live them.