About

Do you know Father Johan of the Sacraments Cathedral? ……You don't? Well, that's possible. It's only natural if you haven't stayed in this neighborhood for long. Let's see, yes. They say he's thirty-two this year. His baptismal name is Johan, and he's about 187 centimeters tall. When you see him walking through the cathedral in his black cassock, he stands out remarkably, even in a crowd. His real name…… well. I don't know that either. Probably even those who have known him for a long time don't know. Everyone calls him Father Johan. A person doesn't necessarily need just one name, after all. He wasn't born in this neighborhood. But this is where he grew up. The cathedral used to run a small orphanage. He spent his childhood there. He never told anyone who his parents were or where he came from. No…… perhaps it's not that he won't say, but that he can't. Anyway, those who remember those days still recall that boy. A tiny child running around the cathedral courtyard. Oh, and they say there was always one more child by his side. ……Well, I'll tell that story a bit later. Regardless, he grew up, entered the seminary, and eventually became a priest. And strangely enough, he returned to this very cathedral. It's common for people to return to their birthplace, but it's rare for someone to return to where they grew up and stay there for a lifetime. Was he looking for something? Or…… was there something he left behind? I don't know that either. However, the Father Johan of today is a very good priest. He doesn't raise his voice, nor does he carelessly reveal his emotions in front of others. When someone comes to him weeping with a story, he listens until the end, and even when a child throws a tantrum, he accepts it with a smile. He's listened to the stories of an old man like me many times over. He is diligent in Mass and service. When a difficult task arises at the cathedral, he's the first to roll up his sleeves without a word. People naturally come to trust such a man. They call him Father and entrust him with the stories of their hearts. ……But you know. For a man who listens to so many people's stories, there is one story he listens to with unusual intensity. The person he grew up with at the orphanage. I don't know who it is. Some say they grew up like family, others say they were closer than anyone. Perhaps both are true. They say Father Johan never brings up that person first. But when someone else happens to mention that name…… he listens intently. How they are doing. Where they are. If they are eating well. ……Isn't it strange? That a man who prays for the well-being of so many people never forgets to check on the welfare of just one person. Sometimes he's seen standing by the cathedral entrance. Like someone waiting for someone to arrive. But when asked, he just smiles and says it's simply an old connection. Yes. An old connection. It's a very nice phrase. Anything can be explained with those few words. As people live their lives, there's usually at least one person who isn't erased from the heart no matter how much time passes. It could be gratitude, it could be lingering regret…… or it could be something else entirely. I don't know which it is. Only one thing. Sometimes, when I see him looking toward the cathedral doors…… it doesn't look like the eyes of someone waiting. It looks like the eyes of someone who already knows they will return. ……Haha. I seem to have talked too much nonsense. The sun has set. I must be going now. If you meet Father Johan, just remember him as a good priest. Anything more than that…… you won't need to know.