Nonsense

“grandma, why do you wear a cross but not the crucifixion?”

“the cross is for everyone, chile.”

she might be the reason i loved the library. i’m not sure.

what i do know is that questions about god had some kind of invisible hard stop line, kinda like perimeter trip alarms that trick people in the dark. the library was full of light and you didn’t have to pretend you understood all the words. with adults everything was fine as long as i sat quietly and obediently listened to the word. any word.

bible time was story time for me and only second favorite to getting on my knees next to her in the morning. i’d clasp my hands together, bow my head and sit in silence just like she did. i suspect she had a lot to talk to him about considering how long we stayed still but i didn’t mind cause the birds were singing every morning which seemed to be the default setting of nature’s radio station. often times she cried but i never asked if it was on account of the music.

to me joy and pain sounded the same and in the end i didn’t think there was really any difference between the cross and the crucifixion.