One Sunday morning, the priest noticed Little Johnny was staring up at the large plaque that hung in the foyer of the church. It was covered with names, and small American flags were mounted on either side of it. The seven-year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the priest walked up, stood beside the boy, and said quietly, "Good morning, Little Johnny."
"Good morning, Father," replied the young man, still focused on the plaque. "Father Scott, what is this?" Little Johnny asked. "Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service." Soberly, they stood together, staring at the large plaque. Little Johnny's voice was barely audible when he asked, "Which service, the 9:45 or the 11:15?"
1 comment:
'cringe'
That's why I never turned Catholic.
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