Sir, – Reading Michael Harding’s article on confession (Life, September 7th) brought me back to the 1960s when we, as children, were packed off on a Saturday to confession. One such Saturday, Pip, our beloved labrador, followed us to the church.
In my wisdom, I thought it would be a great idea to put him in the confession box to stop him running around the church. All was going well until the priest pulled back the screen and then all hell broke loose (if such a thing can happen in a confession box!).
On my way home, I pondered if that was a sin and should I tell it the next time. I consoled myself that it was only a venial sin anyway, and had the priest died of fright that would have been murder, a mortal sin. Happy days. – Yours, etc,
MOIRA CARDIFF,
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Balbriggan,
Co Dublin.
