“You don’t seem surprised to be talking to a puppet,” the sock puppet
observed.
“Well,” the priest said, “I’m not one to question miracles. I don’t know
how you got into this situation, but like I said, we don’t judge here.”
“As it should be, Father,” the puppet responded.
Father Mason led them down a side hallway that looked rarely used.
“Back here is where we do the Lord’s work,” he explained. “The church is
usually a quarter full for Mass. It’s a shame. I had higher hopes when we
started all those years ago.”
“How long have you been here?” the puppet asked.
“Since the beginning,” the priest said. “I came here as a young man. I
expected full pews every Sunday. But the more preachers they added, the
fewer people came. I haven’t had a full house since the first year.”
Luke was still studying the artwork and crosses lining the walls. It
didn’t feel like it was there to sell anything. It felt like it was meant
to make people think.
“We mostly just help disadvantaged citizens,” Father Mason said. “The ones
the city forgot or didn’t care to help.”
He opened the last door in the hallway and guided them in.
There was a small blonde girl lying in bed. Her mother, also blonde, sat
in the chair beside her, praying silently.
“This is Samantha Morris and her daughter Karissa,” the priest said.
“Karissa is going blind. Since her husband died, Samantha hasn’t been able
to find another man to help with the bills.”
“What?” Luke asked.