Читать книгу The 39-Year-Old Virgin - Marie Ferrarella - Страница 3

Dear Reader,

For those Catholic children whose parents couldn’t afford a parochial education, there was “religious instructions” or, as some of us called it, “catechism.” We studied our book, memorizing answers to questions just in case, when we finally made it up to the Pearly Gates, St. Peter decided to give us a quiz. We all went on Saturdays and Wednesdays. It was Wednesdays that made us a source of envy for the other students. They had to remain seated while we—they thought—ran off to freedom when the bell rang dismissing “all students attending religious instructions.” The truth was, we remained captives of these sharp-witted, often sharp-tongued ladies whose faces and hands were the only visible evidence that they were human rather than spirits sent by God to tidy up our immortal souls.

I don’t remember the questions or answers—hopefully St. Peter will be magnanimous—but I remember those ladies and how I wondered if they were happy. I actually had a Sister Michael. This is not her story, but it is the way I would have imagined it.

Thank you for reading and, as ever, I wish you love.

Marie Ferrarella