When I was seven years old, my parents enrolled me in Sunday school.
I spent Sunday afternoons in the dusty basement of the Catholic church with a gaggle of shrunken, ancient nuns and the mothers of other children. We coloured images of Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus using cracked crayons with frayed paper, sang hymns, and listened to stories about what made people good and what made them bad.
One afternoon, I was sitting by myself at a table, colouring a picture of Jesus on the cross. I clutched the nub of a red crayon, scribbling well outside the lines of His body. In my mind, He was covered in blood. Sipping from the straw of an apple juice box, I hummed to myself.
Sister Laracy, a ninety-year-old nun, hobbled toward me, dragged a chair alongside, and struggled to sit before collapsing into the chair with a thump.
“How are you, Grace?”
“I’m good, Sister,” I replied without looking up. “How are you?”
“I’m well, child.”
My legs didn’t reach the ground, so I allowed them to swing back and forth as I worked on my colouring sheet.
“Have your parents mentioned anything about their plans to get married?” she asked.
“No, Mother says she doesn’t want to get married.”
“I see.”
I glanced at Sister Laracy. Her eyes didn’t quite focus, her pupils were full of little spots. Returning my gaze to the sheet on the plastic table, I admired all the red, wondering if she could see.
“You know, having children out of wedlock is considered a sin in the eyes of God.”
“Yes, I know.” I remembered the priest explaining all the sins in church. Honour thy mother and father; Thou shalt not steal; Thou shalt not murder; Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s goods. A long list of things you weren’t allowed to do.
“Grace, look at me please.”
I raised my eyes to meet her face, feeling my cheeks redden in embarrassment. I guess she could see, after all.
“You know, fornication outside of wedlock is a sin.” She pointed her crooked, arthritic finger at me. She inhaled deeply, her chest expanding. “‘Let marriage be held in honour among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled. God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterous.’ Do you know what that means?”
I shook my head. Some juice dripped down my lip but I didn’t lick it off.
“It means those who sin will be punished in the afterlife. It may be too late for your parents, but you can still be saved.” She began her struggle to get up, grabbing ahold of the table and pulling herself to her feet. “Don’t make the same mistakes as them.”