Veronica
Veronica is not a name
given to many baby
girls today. She wiped
the face of Jesus at
the side of the packed-
stone street the
condemned man
trudged with his cross
rubbing his shoulder
raw on his way to the
hill. He left behind the
image of his face on
the cloth, like the
Shroud of Turin but
no need for x-rays.
Did she hang it on
the wall of her home?
Store it in a drawer?
It was certainly an
odd miracle in
which no cure was
executed. Did Veronica
and Simon the cross
carrier meet later to
trade notes or maybe
just to look into each
other’s stunned eyes
with no words to say —
then, interrupted in their
silent communion
by the angry cry of
a hungry baby, they
turn to see the
mother raise to
the infant mouth
her breast.
Patrick T. Reardon
6.13.18
“Veronica” originally appeared in the Write City Magazine on 4.19.17.
Written by : Patrick T. Reardon
For more than three decades Patrick T. Reardon was an urban affairs writer, a feature writer, a columnist, and an editor for the Chicago Tribune. In 2000 he was one of a team of 50 staff members who won a Pulitzer Prize for explanatory reporting. Now a freelance writer and poet, he has contributed chapters to several books and is the author of Faith Stripped to Its Essence. His website is https://patricktreardon.com/.