A Priest of a Different Kind in Malta

Going to my hairdresser for a trim is like going to a family event. Pat is the best hairdresser I've ever known. She owns her place called Mr. Scissors on Manwel Dimech Street in Sliema, and Pat is the only hairdresser there.

But she has her daughter-in-law-a trained beauty specialist-give me a pedicure once a month when I get my hair trimmed. Sometimes her daughter-in-law brings her baby (Pat's granddaughter) and I'm the one drooling-laying back against the couch (probably with my mouth open) in a state of complete relaxation.

Then her son will come in and get his hair cut. Then her mother. And then Pat's daughter will come in and help with a shampoo and will often bring her son (Pat's grandson). And then enter other people who seem more like family than clients.

But the last time I got a big surprise when I walked in to find a young priest sweeping up the hair on the floor in Pat's shop.

She introduced me to him; I don't remember his name now. But there he was dressed with the collar and all, sweeping the floor. Pat asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee and she said our friend here-the Father, who was next in line for a haircut, would get it for me.

I was absolutely amazed. Instead of asking about my sins, he asked about my preference for sugar.

I never see priests because I'm Jewish. But, this must sound ridiculous, I never imagined a priest getting a haircut in a regular place, let alone helping sweep up the floor and getting a fellow customer a cup of coffee.

The Father and I chatted for a bit. I don't think he ever met an American Jew living in Malta.

So that was a first for him. Then he told me that he had met the new American ambassador to Malta, was friendly with the ambassador's wife and was, in fact, having dinner with her the following week. It was his turn to be amazed when I told him that I would never be able to meet the ambassador or his wife because I'm an American and the American Embassy has no interest in the Americans living here (and this is true).

Back to my original point (not sin). It was incredible seeing a priest just in regular life-sweeping a friend's floor, getting a haircut, making a cup of coffee for someone.

I was so moved I was ready to confess all-but Pat's shop was not the place.

Ilene Springer is the author of An-American-in-Malta.com.