We waved goodbye to our fellow pilgrims as they boarded the bus bound for holy sites and, if lucky, glimpses of the pope. Peter and I walked back towards the house. All the while, eerie tendrils of cloud slid upwards, slowly releasing the village of Bienkowka.
On a tree-thick road snaking towards a thatched-roof village Boniface had asked a little wench: How big is Gaesmere? Finally, he had almost preached his way out of the land of the Saxons and into Hessia. How heavy is the trunk, how close to Heaven does it reach?
"I’m not asking for a handout. Fair deal. Cash on wood. I’ll do you a trick. One trick. Life-changing magic, I promise."
For the last morning, Anne climbs the mountain with her son and a knife, imitating
Abraham. She cannot be outdone in doing right. She reads the Bible and she understands it.
There are times when faith does not seem real. For me, it’s most of the time. But there are times when grace emerges like the sun chasing off the dark and cold.
“One law for the Lion and the Ox is Oppression: Blake is trying to tell you one moral size does not fit all, ya’ll.”
