A little boy named Tommy went to church with his grandma every Sunday.<\/p>\n
One day, Grandma told him it was time to make his first confession.<\/p>\n
She explained, \u201c\u201dYou go into that little booth, tell the priest your sins, and he\u2019ll forgive you.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Tommy was nervous but agreed.<\/p>\n
He walked into the confessional and sat down, and the priest slid open the little window.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dBless me, Father, for I have sinned,\u201d\u201d Tommy whispered.<\/p>\n
The priest smiled kindly. \u201c\u201dGo ahead, my son. What are your sins?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Tommy took a deep breath. \u201c\u201dWell\u2026 I stole a pencil from school\u2026 I said a bad word\u2026 and I lied to my mom.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
The priest nodded. \u201c\u201dThat\u2019s not too bad. Anything else?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Tommy thought hard. \u201c\u201dUmm\u2026 oh yeah! I threw my sister\u2019s Barbie out the window and told her she ran away.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
The priest chuckled. \u201c\u201dAnything else?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Tommy scratched his head.
\n\u201cI told my mom a falsehood. I told them I was done with my homework, but I wasn\u2019t. I told my sister that I threw her Barbie out the window by accident, but I really meant to.<\/p>\n
There was a little pause, and then the priest laughed quietly. \u201cIs there anything else?\u201d<\/p>\n
Tommy brushed his fingertips over the back of his neck. \u201cOh!\u201d Last night, while Grandpa was sleeping, I placed toothpaste on his dentures. He laughed when he thought about it.<\/p>\n
The priest did his best not to chuckle. \u201cOkay, son. \u201cSay three Hail Marys and try to be a better boy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tommy nodded and felt better. His grandmother was waiting for him with a proud smile when he walked out of the booth. \u201cHow did it go?\u201d<\/p>\n
Tommy smiled. \u201cEasy as pie, Grandma, but I don\u2019t think that man behind the screen knows half of what I\u2019ve done!\u201d<\/p>\n
Tommy\u2019s goal changed a week later. He wanted a bike. But his mom gently told him they couldn\u2019t get one right now. \u201cMaybe Jesus will help you if you write to Him and promise to be a good boy,\u201d she stated next. Tommy sat down and started to write.<\/p>\n
\u201cDear Jesus, I promise to be good for a whole year\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
He came to a stop. That seemed like too much.<\/p>\n
He crossed it out and tried again. \u201cJesus, I\u2019ll be good for a month.\u201d<\/p>\n
Not quite right yet.<\/p>\n
He wrote it down again and added, \u201cJesus, I\u2019ll be good for a week.\u201d<\/p>\n
That even seemed like a reach. Tommy became mad, crumpled up the paper, put on his shoes, and went for a stroll to calm himself. He saw the nativity scene in the front yard as he walked by the church. It was calm, quiet, and pleasant. But there was something in his damaged heart that made him feel.<\/p>\n
Tommy quickly grabbed the miniature statue of Mary from the display, hid it under his coat, and ran home. He looked around to see if anyone was observing. He went inside, took a big breath, got a new piece of paper, and wrote, \u201cDear Jesus, if you ever want to see your mom again\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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