When I was seven, my godmother used to take me with her to catechism classes she taught on Saturdays. Dressed in t-shirts and overalls, it is hard to fathom why all her high school students used to fawn over me as they did. They'd give me candy and chocolate milk. They'd push me on the swing until I grew bored. Swing me around in their arms so I'd laugh. Girls fighting over where I'd sit in the classroom. Everyone finding something for me to color as I'd wait.
Everyone did, when i was a kid.
So behaved and well mannered. Asking permission for everything, keeping silent during mass. Well versed in please and thank you, complete with a smile.
Couldn't read, couldn't add, but precious nonetheless.
Back in the time when I confessed an innocence as sin, I walked in an aisle of white dresses, awaiting bread and not wine.
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