There is a state of emergency or war in our city. See many armored cars on parking lots, black cars, tricycles. Church: liturgy, see many mothers and babies; feel sad, see almost all go to receive Communion. Frank and I sit on the side and I make a loud remark about the children, while Father Andrew is chanting. Father Andrew is wearing a black cassock. He interrupts to say sternly: I heard you. Annoyed tone. He goes out and comes back and stops in front of me and tells me, quietly, why I should not speak out so loud. "I am sorry, Father." I feel contrite.