SARAH WANDERED UNTIL she neared the Village Park. From a distance, she could see the vicar. “What was his name?” Sarah mumbled to herself. “Benedict? No, that’s the Pope. Francis?” Sarah shook her head. Also a pope, she thought. He looked up and waved Sarah over.
Sarah straightened her back and walked over to greet him. “How are you, Father?” she asked with a smile, pleased that she thought to call him ‘Father’ instead.
“The sun’s out, the gardens are looking lovely—couldn’t be better, I’d say,” he said. “And yourself, Sarah?”
Oh no, he knows my name. Of course he knows my name! Sarah wondered if she’d made a mistake. What if I should have been a nun? she thought. Then I would only have to love God and live by the rules. No big decisions. No big dramas.
“Sarah?”
“I’m so sorry,” she sa
