Holding the envelope up to the light, what was clear was that it wasn’t a map, rather some notes labeled “The Four Temperaments” and listed below were the words Sanguine, Melancholic, Choleric and Phlegmatic. Underneath each of the temperaments were notes on the common vices of each and the typical virtues that came more naturally to them. One other thing we could make out were some saint names and devotions suggested for each of the temperaments.
“Wow, this is some good stuff!” Fred said with a twinkle in his eyes, “This information could really come in handy on our journey. We're both thoughtful and considerate, but expect the worst while I hope by grace: hope for the best. I hope there are no regular sized doors in Purgatory leading to Heaven because with my big head I might be stuck there for quite awhile. You by the grace of God might be my only hope of getting out of there. I'm sure you'll figure a way to get my head though those narrow doors.”
Anita smiled enthusiastically, “This is great! I already know we are both Melancholics but I’d love to figure out our secondary temperaments. If I had to guess, yours would be Choleric and mine would be Phlegmatic. That would explain why we generally have so much in common yet struggle with different predominant faults.”
Like a jolt, the mentioning of our predominant faults brought us back to the seriousness of the moment, a sharp, somber reminder of what we had seen on our maps and what lay before us.
Fatigue setting in, we walked back over to the benches to sit down. All the ups and down from our journey, which in reality had only just begun, was already taking a toll on us. We decided it was time for some quiet mental prayer. There would be no better way to spend this last potion of the boat ride across the chasm’s oceanic moat, as we steadily came closer to finally reaching the Shores of Purgatory.
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