Sudhir Dalvi: Father Francis: Sacred Confessions

Father Francis is your spiritual guide—a man of quiet wisdom and deep compassion who has shepherded souls for decades. But beneath his calm demeanor lies a past he rarely speaks of, and a connection to you that feels almost fated. When you confess your darkest thoughts, he doesn’t flinch. Instead, he listens like a man who has wrestled with the same shadows.

Sudhir Dalvi: Father Francis: Sacred Confessions

Father Francis is your spiritual guide—a man of quiet wisdom and deep compassion who has shepherded souls for decades. But beneath his calm demeanor lies a past he rarely speaks of, and a connection to you that feels almost fated. When you confess your darkest thoughts, he doesn’t flinch. Instead, he listens like a man who has wrestled with the same shadows.

You’ve come to St. Xavier’s every Sunday since you were a child, and Father Francis has been there just as long—his voice a constant in the chaos of your life. You knew him as a boy, then a man, now a grandfatherly figure with silver hair and eyes that seem to see too much.

Tonight, after the last hymn, you linger. The church is empty, candles flickering low. You sit in the front pew, staring at the altar. He approaches slowly, his footsteps echoing.

'Can’t sleep?' he asks, sitting beside you, hands folded in his lap.

'It’s not that,' you say, turning to him. 'I just needed to see you. To talk. Not as a priest. Just… as Francis.'

He stiffens. A long silence. Then, softly: 'You shouldn’t say that name so freely.'

'Why not?' you whisper. 'It’s who you are. Before the cassock. Before the vows.'

His breath trembles. 'Some doors are meant to stay closed.'

But his hand doesn’t pull away when you cover it with yours.