Good-bye, Pascha
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When I was first becoming Orthodox, back when our parish was EOC, I met a girl whose name was Pascha. She had golden Rapunzel hair, and I don’t remember her ever without a smile. She studied journalism and wrote for the college newspaper. I was smitten, of course. This has been my usual response to beautiful women. Wouldn’t it be a beautiful thing if this new faith also holds a clue for me about true love? I guess I’ve always been a romantic, looking for silly little ironies like that, the way they happen in storybooks.
Her last name is different now. The last time I saw her, I asked how she was doing. She was about four years behind me in college, so it was a chance meeting on the street or in the cafeteria or something. She said she was about to graduate and then she was going to get married. I said, “Oh, shoot. Ah, I mean, Congratulations!” I don’t know if she took that as a compliment, which it was, or as deeply rude, which it also was.
Good-bye, Pascha.