courage themselves over the trifling things that he was constantly falling victim to. Ten. Vestment Room. Old brocaded vestments, bell wheel, madraca, the hand carved wooden statues and other objects belonged to the original church. And through the sealed-glass cases he saw some of the fabrics that were many years old, falling to rot. One human's touch would crumple so many of these objects into dust, he realized.

From here, David moved North again to Eleven. This is the oldest building in California. The only remaining church in the State used by Junipero Serra. Contains one of two original confessionals, the old stations of the cross, the candlesticks, torches, processional cross, altar card frames, statues and pictures saved from the earliest days of the mission. Original Indian decorations are preserved wherever possible. Building is narrow because no longer beams were obtainable in this area.

Almost with a feeling of reverence, David entered the church and immediately his knees felt weak and he sat down on one of the scarred, hard wooden straightbacked benches. He was amazed at how old, and yet, how holy the interior of the church still remained. Coming in, he noticed the sign which told how this church was still being used for services.

A woman glanced back to see him sitting by himself in the rear of the church and when he saw her looking at him, he quickly buried his nose in the guide booklet and read of what followed next. Twelve. The beautiful Spanish altar, over 300 years old, came from Barcelona, Spain.

He looked up and there it was, right before his eyes at the end of the long aisle. It shone in the light of so many glowing candles in their red glass cups. Should I dare, he wondered. Yes, why do I hesitate? He walked rapidly down the aisle, almost running. But he couldn't get up close to the altar for iron grill work stopped him. "Darn," he said aloud and then clapped a hand over his mouth. Easy, David, have you forgotten where you're at? He lit a prayer candle, dropped to his knees and clasping both hands about the iron railing, he commenced to pray softly to himself.

"Oh, dear God. I'm such a sinful boy, I know." He rolled his eyes upwards. "I hope I'm getting through, up there?

"I say nasty things that I really don't mean after I say them. Things get on my nerves and I become irritated and grumpy. And I take it out on everybody else. "And those dreams. I know that they must not be fit for young boys to dream of, yet, why do I dream them? Where do those cock-eyed ideas come from? I don't think they're really, really crazy, yet, after I dream about them I feel good, satisfied. I know you must be angry about my telling you these things, especially here in church. But I'm all mixed-up and I feel I have to tell somebody and I can't tell anyone in my family.

"Alright, I'll admit it, 'cause you must know already. I like men, I like them a lot. I wish I had half a dozen for friends, real good friends, even one would make me so happy. I wouldn't care how old he was, just so he would be my very special friend, all my own, too.

"I would hug him, and kiss him, and hold him in my arms, if he would let me? We would do anything for each other's happiness and I would be so proud and pleased. But, of course, such men may not exist. Where could I ever find such a person and would he like me?

"Maybe my dreams are crazy old dreams. Maybe I had better shut up. There are people coming, I can hear them, so I guess I will close now."

one