When I was twelve, I made my Confirmation. I'm not going into the whole process, but part of it was that I had to first make my Confession. About thirty of us were all sitting in the pews waiting to be called on. "Dont get Father Lyons," whispered Jimmy DeSalvo said. "Don't get Father Lyons." Why?" I asked. "He's giving everyone a lot of prayers," said Jimmy.
The usual punishment was about ten "Our Fathers" and ten "Hail Marys." There were three other priests taking confessions. I prayed "Oh please God, please don't let me get Father Lyons. I swear I'll never miss Mass again."
Of course I got Father Lyons.
Now I was a good kid, my mother always said that I really didn't give her much trouble, so I sat down, scared, knowing that I had Father Lyons. He slid the little wooden panel open so I could barely make out his visage. I said "Bless me father for I have sinned" He asked me what my sins were. I couldn't really think of any because I really was a good kid, so I made up a few small things. Nothing too bad. I knew that I had to confess something right?
I sat down at the pew, knees against the wood and started "Our father, who art in heaven..." As I kept up the prayers, I heard the other kids laughing at me as they left. He's still praying, he's still praying? What did he do?
I felt their eyes burn into my back and the humiliation was unbearable. I got to thirty and said I'm sorry father, but I can't do this anymore. I made the sign of the cross like I was finished and ran out of there. I looked up at the sky all the way home and was ready to dodge the lightening bolts that were headed my way. I made it home still intact. I breathed a sigh of relief. From then on, I never got Father Lyons again.