
Recently I walked by the church I attended as a child.
This statue has stood in front of the rectory all these years.
One Sunday when I was about 7 I noticed the hands were missing.
They had fallen victim to a game of stickball.
I remember asking the priest why Jesus’s hands were missing.
A few minutes later he preached a sermon about how we were all Jesus’s hands.
He mentioned me in the sermon, and that was a very exciting moment for a 7 year old.
Advertisement

wow, frances! on some many levels, wow…
wow, frances! on some many levels, wow…
It would be a thrill at my age – my priest still doesn’t know who I am.
It would be a thrill at my age – my priest still doesn’t know who I am.