Page 44 of Sins and Virtue

We walked on the outskirts of the town’s park field, which made an excellent space for the annual Easter Festival. The festival was lined with vendors of all ages selling everything from common cuisine to handcrafted pottery to mined jewelry. Unlike most American fairies, this had a live band that played a mixture of gospel music and classical Italian music like Andrea Boccelli. Topped off with an iconic Ferris wheel, they brought from Naples and built it here for the next few days.

The laughter of children floated in the arena as dozens of them scurried around with candy in their hands as they wandered with magic in their eyes, wondering where to go next.

This was a great public outing for the orphan children to go on, as we accompanied them.

“I’m happy to see the children enjoying themselves. I feel like they might get bored or sad because they don’t get out much.” My voice was a decibel softer.

Children were a weak spot for me. The most innocent and untattered of all humankind. They deserved love, protection, and to be safe no matter what.

The passing thought brought a heart-wrenching pull as a pair of green olive eyes and a soft round baby face called to me. Ollie.

“You seem to think a lot about them.” Marie's shoulders stiffened in her all-black attire; her eyes reflected the small faces of the children.

“Don’t you? We’re the only people they have, but who will care for them when they're older and outside the orphanage?"

“I don’t know. Life has its mysterious ways. God knows why he does things.”

I pivoted my foot and paused right in front of her. “But how do we know if God is doing this?”

“What are you referring to?”

“Nothing but between the affairs of the divine and human, we can’t expect God to do everything for us. If we believe in ourselves and in our faith and act, then God helps. Not by praying and waiting around doing nothing. It’s even written that faith without action is dead. God didn’t plan for their parents to die or give them away. So why not help the children find families? Help them, and in turn we help ourselves.”

She raised a cynical brow, her face etched in skepticism. “We must trust and wait for him. He has a vision and design, and we are obligated to follow his command. That’s it.”

Deep within where my soul resided, something cracked.

That was insufficient.

Didn’t they understand there was so much more to it?

Perhaps God had a plan; however, what about making our choices and changing our destiny? He gave us free will, right? Soit had to mean something. It meant I could choose what to do with my life like the rest of humankind.

But why couldn’t anyone see it that way?

No one wanted to talk about the possibility of taking accountability for our actions and trying to do better.

I wasn’t satisfied, and based on the faces of judgment around me, I feared I never would be.

Remaining silent in my thoughts when the rumbling of the crowd increased and a gnawing, poking sensation ate at my gut.

“Who is that?” Marie asked, blushing like a virgin.

“Who?”

A fine line of uncertainty wavered in the air.

She pointed behind me as I hesitantly angled my head over my shoulder, and my jaw dropped in horror.

Black leather jacket. Black v-shirt. Blue worn jeans. Tanned boots. Black hair slicked back to his collar. Finally, Russian blue eyes. The man was like a chameleon, adjusting to his surroundings easily, as he could persuade even the roughest of hearts.

Konstantin.

“It can’t be.” I murmured.

My heart racing and clenching in pending doom. It felt like I was going to have a heart attack.

Jesus, help me.