Chapter 14
For some inexplicable reason, Hana agreed to lead Sunday school just once, the promise extracted under duress.
“But I don’t like children,” she protested. “Not unless they’re blood relatives and none of these are.”
“Please, Hana,” Pastor Allen begged. “Christine’s overseas. We’ve all taken a turn. The youngest is five and the oldest around nine. Two of them are mine. You love my kids, don’t you?”
“Yours yes! But I’ve seen the others and it’s all snot and bad manners. They cry over silly things and exact petty revenges we can never catch them doing.”
“Hana, you work in a school; I promise it will be easy,” the pastor informed her in his best, ‘I’m–so–desperate–please–say–yes voice.’ “All the stuff is there in the book, you just have to teach it on the day. You’ll be perfect.
