CLOSER TO HEAVEN

The creak of opening doors occasionally interrupted the cold, damp silence. More souls to be saved appeared on the threshold. In black suits and shimmering white dresses, little people entered the temple, holding their parents' hands. A sense of fear combined with somewhat forced concentration was evident on most faces. More than once, it was downright terror, comparable to that of a child about to be beaten by their father. Even the most cheerful and lively ones now had absolutely no desire to play. Only the parents seemed calm, though they obviously sensed the gravity of the situation. They escorted their offspring to their pews, and then most knelt somewhere in the back, praying primarily for their children on this very special day. Not all adults, however, were granted a quiet prayer. A few children couldn't bear it and ran up to them. Usually, after a few, often harsh, words, they returned to their pews, waiting their turn. The boys' mood improved a bit when they saw Tomek crying, and his mother had to force him to go and sit next to him so that he wouldn't run away again.

The doors opened less and less frequently, and the deathly silence was now broken mainly by isolated coughs. Pawełek sat roughly in the center of the church. From there, he had a good view of the entire sanctuary and what was happening inside. The pews were adorned with white ribbons, which occasionally fell off because of the nervous children. The air was filled with the unpleasant smell of floor cleaner, which today shone so brightly that no one was afraid to get down on both knees. To the right hung pictures of saints. They looked very menacing, and when Paweł was little, he had always been afraid of them. They deepened the atmosphere of pervasive fear and gave the impression that they saw everything. Trying to hide anything from them was pointless and could only worsen the situation. A flashing red light behind the altar caught the boy's attention. He knew it was a sign of the Lord Jesus' presence. However, he had always wondered what would happen in the event of a power outage. He didn't know if the light would still shine, or why it shone there anyway, especially when the religion teacher said God was everywhere. Pawełek always asked himself many questions, but when it came to religion, he always accepted what his parents and catechist said. He couldn't quite grasp, however, that God had always existed. He often wondered what kind of parents this gray-haired, long-bearded sage would have. What games he would play with his friends, and who his favorite soccer player was. On the other hand, despite the lack of answers to these questions, the boy understood the concept of faith in his most perfect, childlike way. Childhood, during which doubts rarely arise, is undoubtedly the period of the most mature and impeccable faith in the Creator's wisdom and justice. Only teachers and parents, to whom the only complaints at this age seem unjust, seem to be directed.

Pawełek had been preparing for this event for several days. He remembered all his sins. He counted exactly 23 of them. He decided to memorize them, but he knew he might forget some. At first, he wanted to write them down on a piece of paper, but he'd heard somewhere that that wasn't allowed. So he decided that if he'd said more than fifteen and couldn't remember any more, he'd stop listing them. He knew that forgotten sins were also forgiven. His were average for his age, so the boy counted on the priest's understanding and understanding. For that reason, he wasn't as upset. What bothered him most was the too-tight suit he'd borrowed from his cousin Piotr. He was terribly angry with his parents for not buying him his own.

After a while, the fear dissipated, and the boy began to feel a little bored. To his delight, he discovered a small pocket inside his jacket. When he slipped his hand inside, he felt the dry touch of paper. It turned out to be a folded piece of paper. He felt the excitement that always accompanies discovering other people's secrets. He quickly unfolded it. The piece of paper was two-lined, most likely torn from a notebook, and written in a child's, rather ugly handwriting. The first line read, "I expressed myself in a bad way." Pawełek became incredibly excited. He guessed it was a list of his cousin's sins. He felt rather indecent, but he couldn't resist reading on. He had the opportunity to learn Piotrek's greatest secrets. Pawełek felt a bit like those figures in holy paintings from whom there are no secrets. He continued reading: "I didn't go to church, I talked in church, I fought with my friends, I called my friends names, I didn't listen to my parents." The boy was a bit disappointed by his discovery. He had been hoping for something extraordinary, but it turned out that all his transgressions weighed heavily on his conscience and were part of the 23 he had found within himself. His mood changed dramatically, however, when he read the last line: "I was spying on my cousin." How he now regretted his archaeological endeavors. His conscience could have been cleansed with such a small effort, yet it seemed he would have to fight a massive battle comparable to those of American wrestlers. The miracle of oblivion vanished, and the enormous boulder his subconscious had struggled to lift with such great difficulty rolled back onto Pawełek's conscience. The boy recalled that unhappy summer evening. Then, together with Piotrek, they had admired their twenty-year-old cousin swimming naked in the lake. The memory of the sight of a woman's grace now evoked entirely different feelings in him. That evening, it seemed like God's most perfect creation. The girl was a part of nature, bridging the eternal gap between Mother Nature and humanity. Full of harmony, the heir of Świtezianka reveled in freedom, combining this most beautiful feeling with her own flawless beauty. Her long, auburn hair, flowing over the surface of the water, left the boy no doubt that he admired one of the water goddesses, long forgotten by all the inhabitants. Now, however, she was merely a deft imitation of the ruler of darkness. Beauty had lost its luster. Her smooth skin wrinkled like an orange slice left unattended, and the sweet song of her beautiful body was now a terrible, screeching laugh. He felt like a medieval sailor lured by a siren onto the sharp rocks of sin.

He was incredibly angry with himself. After all, it had been Piotrek's idea, and at first, decency had prevented him from doing so. However, nature ultimately overcame human inhibitions, and the sin was fulfilled. Now his memory returned at the worst possible moment. It was a bit like being caught eating a sandwich during class, just as you were taking your last bite.

The dull sound of the occasional knocking now took on a completely different tone. It seemed faster, louder, and more distinct, and the church itself seemed smaller and lower. The figures of the saints were taller and even more terrifying than when Pawełek was little. They stared at him from the cold, stern walls, wanting to let him know they knew everything. The red light no longer blinked cheerfully. The boy now associated it with the hot fires of hell, where he would fry if he concealed his sins. His heart was beating fast, and his legs felt limp, preventing escape. Cold sweat broke out on his palms, which he tried unsuccessfully to rub into his pants.

Another person walked away from the confessional. Her red face was slowly beginning to regain its natural color. The exhaustion that accompanies a sorcerer after a hard-fought battle, one he wins, but then has no strength left. Her hands slowly began to control their tremors, and a faint smile was an expression of immense relief. The girl, with increasingly quick and easy steps, made her way toward the altar. Finally, when she reached it, she knelt, crossed herself, and opened the white book. Another soul cleansed of its childhood sins.

Only two people remained before Pawełek. The boy envied all the children who could enjoy the lightness of their souls. He himself couldn't wait for the moment when the priest would cut his umbilical cord of sin and be born again. However, everything was accompanied by a feeling of fear, which after a while gave way to humility. He deeply regretted what he had done, but fear was still decidedly stronger than regret.

Once again, the knocking came from the confessional. Pawełek was next. He would soon have to cross a pass, which every participant in the journey had to traverse in order to be able to walk freely for a while. Kneeling at its edge, the boy accepted his imperfection. Slowly, he began to calm down. Sorrow took on its most sincere, mature form for a boy of his age. He tried to control his breathing and repeat the formula from the catechism one last time. He mentally listed his sins, which now numbered 24. However, he wasn't particularly pleased that he remembered them all. He waited for his turn, concentrated and focused.

Finally, the sound of striking wood echoed. The little penitent stood up. Fear and shame attacked again, driving away concentration and regret. His increasingly heavy legs barely moved the boy toward the confessional. An invisible force, which he briefly experienced, came to his aid. He finally reached the shore of that cleansing river in which no one had ever drowned. He knelt and, with his right hand, touched his forehead, heart, and shoulders, one after another, then joined his hands. He cleared his throat and began reciting the formula he had learned in religious education. When he finished, he began the exchange of the 24. He slowly immersed himself in the cleansing current of forgiveness. When he was left with this last one, the boy began to hesitate. Fear struck again, and the boy began to be drawn into the insidious vortex of shame. A deep voice spoke from the confessional, urging him to continue. The boy still hesitated, but once again, he felt the support of that inexplicable force. He closed his eyes. As he began to speak, the church space was suddenly filled with the powerful, mature, gently vibrating sound of bells. It pierced Pawełek's ears and entire body, stirring life and joy within him. The boy detached himself from reality. His soul had been carried away by the rushing stream and was now swaying in a trance. His journey continued to the rhythm of the bells, which were still ringing furiously. Immediately after they stopped, the boy heard a knock. He felt an incredible sense of relief at being on the other side of the river. He stood up and took a few steps, then stopped and returned to the confessional to ask about penance.