Keys

A set of them sat on the mahogony table, just out of reach, as I signed and/or initialed a mound of papers, one after the other, as an attorney explained each to me. I actually listened to him.

When the signing was over, I was handed the keys.

Early that evening, I used one of the keys to unlock the door, and to step into the townhouse that was, for the first time, my own. (Already in the kitchen, from an earlier inspection, were the traditional Filipino gifts for a new home -- rice, salt, and sugar.) My first words upon entering were: "Peace to this house, and to all who dwell within." With a vial of holy water, I blessed every room in the house. With a vial of holy oil, I anointed each of the four walls of the interior, beginning with the north wall, going to the west, to the south, and ending with the east. Then, while facing east, I recited the 103rd (104th) Psalm ("Bless the Lord O my soul, you are very great O Lord my God, clothed with pomp and brilliance, arrayed with light as with a cloak...") Finally, I ended with "The Blessing of A New Home" from the traditional Rituale Romanum.

During the week, Sal and I will hasten the final cleaning of the old apartment, where I have lived for eleven years. My son and I will load the truck and move the heavier objects into the new place. The weekend will be spent getting the townhouse into at least a provisional sense of order.

Elsewhere in this country, thousands have lost the only home they had. If I didn't know better, I'd say I was truly blessed.