Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 112567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
“All are welcome in the Lord’s house.” His frown didn’t leave as he walked away.
Well. . .no need to offer any Godly counsel or anything. See you later.
I returned my view to the candles. The small flames brought a natural hallowed glow to the church’s dark shadowed interior.
Someone cleared their throat on my left.
I turned.
Where did she come from?
“Excuse me, child.” A nun leaned my way. “Can I help you?”
Do they think I’m going to steal a cross or something? Can a sister get some privacy?
I sighed. “I’m just here to pray.”
She gave me a warm smile. “Have you ever done so at St. Paul?”
“No.”
“Good. Then, I can help you.” She gestured in front of me. “First, you will light a candle.”
I turned back to the rows and rows of lit and unlit candles. “Why do I that?”
“The light signifies our prayer, which is offered in faith. It also shows our desire to remain present in prayer even as we continue on our day.”
“I like that.” I gestured to the basket next to the candles. Quarters, dimes, and dollars stuffed it. “Are we supposed to leave money before we pray too?”
“That’s for the faithful to leave donations so that we can pay for more candles.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “However, this isn’t expected of the poor.”
Embarrassment came.
I probably shouldn’t have, but I stuffed my hand in my jeans, took out three crumbled dollars, and put them in the basket.
I won’t have bus fare to get back home, but God will see a way.
“Bless you, child.” She nodded at my crumbled dollars and pointed to a jar of matches that were at least five inches long. “When you light a candle for someone, you strengthen the prayer.”
I turned to her. “It adds some sort of spiritual magic?”
“It does.”
The nun whispered, “Make sure you say the names in your mind. All the names of everyone you’re praying for.”
“Thank you.”
“And bless you.” She gave me a gentle pat and strolled away.
I picked up a match and struck it on the end of the jar. The flame came. Slowly, I lit the candle in front of me.
This is for Mom. I hope you’re up there with God, flying around with pretty wings. I hope you’re catching up with Grandma and Grandpa. . . and you all aren’t arguing up there and upsetting Jesus.
Grinning, I lit the next candle.
This is for Leo. Thank you for choosing me. I needed your help. You were right. Maybe, God did lead me to you.
I blew out the match.
In fact, now that I’m standing in this church, I know for a fact that God led me to you.
I put the match in the small trash can on the side and walked over to the altar.
So far, so good.
I didn’t want to pray next to all of the other women. Instead, I headed over to the right where no one prayed.
Sighing, I stopped at the communion rail, lowered, and placed my knees on the padded step. I put the briefcase in between the railing and me, making sure I didn’t lose it.
Alright. More prayers for Leo. According to him, he has a lot of sin in his soul.
I heard the church’s door open, but didn’t look back. There was no need to fear Dutch or Snow here. First of all, I had their money. Second, this was supposed to be the house of God. If I wasn’t safe here, then I might as well give up with life altogether.
I let out a long breath and put my elbows on the rail.
Footsteps sounded.
The older women whispered on my far left. I hoped they weren’t talking about me or was worried that I might take their purses or something.
Ignore these crazy people.
The whispering rose.
Ignoring them, I pressed my palms together and closed my eyes.
Hey. . .God. Thank you for all you’ve done for me.
For some reason, a deep sadness filled my chest.
I come here to ask you for your forgiveness for a really kind man named Leo. I doubt he’s done anything too bad. He’s such a good guy. However, he begs you to forgive him of his sins and—
Hard metal pushed at my side.
What is that?
I opened my eyes and looked to my left.
An Asian man held a gun at my side. Although most of his hair was silver, he had streaks of black. All the strands went up in a knot at the top of his head.
And nothing about his face said that he played any games.
I shivered. “Umm. . .can I. . .help you in any way?”
He didn’t speak or smile. The neutral expression remained on his face. It was in that moment I noticed a silver collar covering most of his throat.
Where the hell is he from?
I tried to talk to him again. “W-what. . .do you want me to do?”