By Mary Pearson
copyright 2013 Mary Pearson
Lily fingered the clover which she had laminated before placing it in the ark box. It had been her memento from the trip to see St. Patrick-- the largest and greenest clover she had ever seen.
“It should have foy leaves, though,” Molly was sitting beside her on the bed. “Then it would be lucky.”
“Three leaves stand for the Trinity,” Lily disagreed, “and in my opinion it couldn’t be any luckier.” She looked at Brody who, oblivious to the Gonker children, was playing with his cars. She could still picture him blue and lifeless, laid out on the ground with Aunt Gen giving him CPR. She had forgotten about the clover for a couple of weeks and was surprised to find it barely wilted, stuffed into the zipper pocket of her backpack. Maybe that was a bit of a miracle, too.
Lucien hauled the book out from the shelf in the rec yurt. “The boys are going on a solo trip because you guys got to go to St. Therese without us.”
Molly faced her brother, hands on hips. “Boys ayen’t allowed in convents.”
“Well, girls aren’t allowed in lions’ dens,” he snapped back.
Lily furrowed her brow. “That’s old testament, right? “
The boys nodded.
“So how are you gonna get back?”
“Find Jesus’ ancestors.” Logan’s response was almost too quick.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to look them up first?” She had a point. So they hauled out the big Bible from the bookshelf and found the genealogy of Jesus at the front of Matthew’s Gospel. “So when was it?”