My niece Molly at the tender age of "just turned 4," is a holy roller. She thinks of God like most kids think of candy. Though my sister-in-law and brother are not your bible type, church-going, praise God every breath you take, kind of people. Don’t get me wrong they are loving and good and Christian, they just don’t go to church every Sunday. So it doesn’t stand to reason why Molly is so…spiritual.
One Sunday several weeks ago, they took Molly to church. Later in the day they saw my Mother (who is the kind of person who devotes most her time, energy and money to the church,) Molly asked her, "Vavie (Grandma in Portuguese,) I didn’t see you in church, where were you?
My Mother who never misses a beat, especially with children said, "Hey, Miss Molly, there are two masses every Sunday, I was at the eight o’clock mass." My Mother continued, "Did you see anyone you knew at church?"
Molly nodded her head and said, "Yes, I saw Jesus."
I love stories like this, they make me homesick.
Photo: An cast iron angel at the gateway to Lourdes.
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