Since this is a new taverna and needs new stories, I shall start of with how my weekend went (started at page 96 in old taverna). Names will be kept out as much as possible.
So, my parish has two church buildings. The older one is in a small town called Wilkeson. The newer one is in Tacoma. Wilkeson church was built in 1900 (give or take three years) and as the coal mines ran out, the Russians moved out and so the church was used mainly by the ones who stayed. As a few Orthodox immigrants and converts joined the church, they were living away from Wilkeson. Enter the Tacoma church. So, really we have two churches in one parish and we use the church in Wilkeson once or twice a year on Pentecost and for some funerals and weddings.
Sunday
It is Pentecost. We have three priests, the two who are assigned to the altar and the visiting Army chaplain, Fr. John (one of the other priests is also a Fr. John). Afterward we have our huge BBQ and foodfest. Now, my dad tells me later, that Fr. John's wife (Army chaplain) was asking questions about me. At first I thought nothing of it until he tells me that they have a daughter. Yes, a daughter who is one grade lower than I! Then he tells me the questions the matushka was asking. Things like how does he get along with parents? Grades in school? Plans after high school? Things like that.
This is when my brain kicks in, puts 2 and 2 together and figures out; hold on a sec! Somebody's trying to arrange something!
Monday.
My dad and I visit the ROCOR cathedral in Seattle. The priest there, Fr. Alexey, had invited all the Orthodox clergy and laity in the state to the cathedral to really show "hey, we're in Communion. We've reunited with Moscow. Let's have a feast!"
And during the Liturgy, my brain fries at all the Slavonic, but I still know where we're at (partly because the Creed, Lord's Prayer and Gospel readings were in English and Slavonic). Sometime later, Liturgy ends and we all go behind the cathedral itself to the parish house (a fifty feet walk! How horrible!)
Enter the food fest. So, as is traditional in all Orthodox parishes, there is not enough room for everyone to move and get food comfortably. The place was packed and the clergy (lucky them) had a reserved table.
Once my dad and I get our food, the only places we can find were at this table near the wall. At the end of the table, was the daughter of Fr. John and across from her, an empty seat. Some spots down, another empty seat.
So, me being the 17 year-old I am, ask the girl if the seat is taken. She said she thinks that her mom was going to sit there and proceeds to motion across the room to her mom in the line to find out if her mom was going to sit there.
Verdict: spot open!
I set my food down, get some coffee and come back to eat. About a minute passes by and the other kids who were sitting at the table start talking movies. The girl and I then start talking about movies even after the other kids leave! All the while I'm just thinking "Wow, she seems pretty cool. Not too bad looking. I think this will be a good day."
We finish our food, go outside and hang out with a couple other people. They leave, we walk around to the other side of the church to where a couple of 10ish year-olds are playing Blackjack. We just stay by there making sure the real little kids don't climb the trees and fence, all the while just hanging out.
After some hour or two, my dad decides that we're going to leave. Not so coincidentally, Fr. John and his family are also leaving. They leave, my dad and I find our car and then leave. Inside the car, he tells me that he talked to the matushka.
Our conversation went something like this:
Dad: "There is no more conspiracy".
Me: "Really? What was this one about?"
Dad: "Oh, the matushka wanted you and her daughter to run into each other. You did."
Me: "This doesn't mean an arranged marriage does it?"
Dad: "Nah, she said 'just leave the two of them alone. They'll figure it out' "
Me: "Are you sure?"
Long story short, I think there is potential here. And I now have incentive to clean up my language where it needs to be cleaned up.
