Father, Son, and Holy Mulberries

Blinking slowly, I swallowed as the room swam into focus. Ms. Kemp’s gently lined face came into view, too, very close to mine, and she pressed a can of lukewarm Coke into my hand. “Drink this, dear. You had quite a spell!” Memories trickled back as carbonation bubbled in my throat, and I released a sudden anguished wail: “Oh, NOOOO! I dropped Jesus on the floor!!!” These are the perils of being an underage altar girl.

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