Letters from the Bema

The Feast of St. Janyl, from the north door

A night of candles, a morning of bells, and one family leaving.

The square below the steps on the morning of the Feast.

Four bishops, a hundred thousand people, so they say, and a lane of pilgrims from five in the morning. I stood at the north door with the Gospel book and a bottle of water for the choir. The Archbishop blessed from the steps. The mass baptism in the square: more than two thousand babies, and he held every hundredth in his arms, said the name, and passed it back.

In the crowd I saw a family from my parish, the woman with the candle girl, going up with two children and a small one, all in their best. They are moving to Almaty on Friday. I nodded to them over the heads and could not stop reading. That is also the work.