The Great Chain on Urantia (Chapter 7, page 1 of 8)

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Chapter 7

August, 1948 We're going to Paro! Good good good. I get to go with Brother Boniface on the back of the motorcycle. That'll be fun. I can watch all the people, and maybe some children will talk to me or even play with me. Let's go! Let's go!

Oh, not till after morning prayer. Oh well.

Brother Andre might give a good talk. And he might say something to me, or about me. That's always nice. Probably tell me to behave, on the trip. I mostly do. Usually the only time I get into trouble is when adults don't behave, 'cause then I get mad. They think they can do what they like just because they're grown up. But, I suppose I should show respect. Right, I should.

And they should deserve it.

I wish I could have my own pony. Brother Andre said I'm too young to be riding around on a big horse. I don't know what he thinks might happen. I take turns riding when we go to Sombe, sometimes. If I could ride my own pony I could explore a lot more. I wonder what I can do to make that happen.

Can't think of anything right now.

I do have Borg, and he's the only dog in the monastery. He's lots of fun when I go hiking in the woods. He sniffs out pikas and yellow-throat martens and stuff. Scares up pheasants, and monals. Never catches anything, though. Can't run fast enough. His legs are too short.

That's pretty good. My very own dog. Most of the monks don't have anything of their own at all. That must be horrible. I'm glad I don't have to do the vow of poverty. I won't be no monk, for sure. Maybe a priest, though. But not here. Far, far away. In a city. In Europe, maybe France.

When Brother Cyprios teaches geography, it's so interesting, all those towns, all the different customs. All that business, and trade going on all over the world. Wow! Maybe I'll be a trader, a traveling merchant. Or some sort of diplomat, so I can see everything. Are there any traveling priests? I must ask about that. The priests from France, do they often travel?

Brother Andre is the only priest I know. Those priests from France who came to see him, they weren't here very long. They kept looking at me. I wonder why. And they seemed to be talking about me. Didn't like that.

If they wanted something with me, why didn't they talk to me? I can tell them what they want to know. But they mostly talked in French, so that might have been hard. My French isn't too good yet. Brother Guillaume doesn't make me stick to a schedule like most of the other monks do. I should read more French by myself. If I'm going to be a priest in France I'll have to know more French.

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