A Missed Putt and a Nun’s Remark

ONE SUNNY AFTERNOON, A CLERGYMAN AND A SISTER WERE ENJOYING A ROUND OF GOLF. BY THE TIME THEY REACHED THE FIFTH HOLE, THE PRIEST FACED A TEN-FOOT PUTT FOR PAR. HE CAREFULLY AIMED HIS SHOT, BUT UNFORTUNATELY, IT VEERED OFF COURSE. IN FRUSTRATION, HE EXCLAIMED, “DAMN IT! I MISSED!” THE NUN APPEARED ASTONISHED AND RESPONDED, “FATHER, YOU ARE AWARE THAT SUCH LANGUAGE IS UNBECOMING…””INDEED, SISTER,” THE PRIEST SIGHED, RUNNING A HAND THROUGH HIS THINNING HAIR. “YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. IT WAS… A MOMENT OF LAPSE. THE DEVIL OF GOLF FRUSTRATION, YOU SEE.” HE ATTEMPTED A WEAK SMILE.

THE SISTER’S EXPRESSION SOFTENED SLIGHTLY. “GOLF CAN BE INDEED TRYING, FATHER. PERHAPS A MOMENT OF REFLECTION AND A FEW DEEP BREATHS BEFORE THE NEXT PUTT WOULD BE BENEFICIAL?” SHE SUGGESTED GENTLY.

THE PRIEST CHUCKLED. “WISE WORDS, SISTER. WISE WORDS. PERHAPS YOU ARE THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE GIVING THE SERMONS.” HE TOOK A DEEP BREATH, AS SHE SUGGESTED, AND LOOKED AT THE BALL AGAIN. “RIGHT THEN,” HE SAID, ADDRESSING THE BALL WITH A NEWFOUND CALM. “LET’S TRY THAT AGAIN, SHALL WE?”

HE TOOK HIS STANCE, FOCUSED, AND SWUNG THE PUTTER SMOOTHLY. THIS TIME, THE BALL ROLLED TRUE, STRAIGHT TOWARDS THE HOLE, AND… DROPPED IN WITH A SATISFYING ‘CLINK’.

A GENUINE SMILE SPREAD ACROSS THE PRIEST’S FACE. “WELL, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! PERHAPS A LITTLE PENITENCE, IN THE FORM OF DEEP BREATHING, IS ALL IT TAKES.”

THE SISTER SMILED BACK, A WARM, GENUINE SMILE. “PERHAPS, FATHER. OR PERHAPS, THE LORD IS MORE FORGIVING THAN WE SOMETIMES GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR. ESPECIALLY ON THE GOLF COURSE.”

THEY BOTH CHUCKLED LIGHTLY, THE TENSION FROM THE MISSED PUTT COMPLETELY DISSIPATED. THEY CONTINUED THEIR ROUND IN GOOD HUMOR, THE SUN SHINING BRIGHTLY, THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON PROMISING A MORE PEACEFUL, AND PERHAPS, MORE PAR-FILLED, GOLFING EXPERIENCE.