Snippets - The Nuns' House

The day was crisp and clear but I was in a suit and tie. My father brought me there by the hand. I kicked stones along the way until he told me not to scuff my shoes. I fingered the tiny sparkles in the gray granite wall while he rang the bell. The door was opened by a short fat nun, but I wasn’t surprised. I knew all about the sisters, how they marched the big kids to the corner with the traffic light, clicking their wooden hand signals when the kids should stop or go or turn. When the light turned green the smaller kids broke and ran. The older ones filed into Mrs. McGuire’s candy store to play pinball. The nun said I was too young for first grade since I was only five, and my father started to explain how that didn’t matter. I looked at the sister’s crucifix, at the slender man with the sharp knees who was nailed to it. A delicate breeze brushed the nun’s black habit.