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Hand Print

“I’m taking you to catechism,” said Eli’s dad.

Rolling his head back while breathing a long sigh, Eli asked, “Why?” Eli looked out the car window and saw an 1800s looking church complete with stained windows and nuns.

“You’ve had an attitude since your mom died. I thought it was just a phase, but it’s been a year,” said Eli’s dad.

“I don’t have an attitude, just a different point of view,” said Eli as he stepped out of the car causing the grounds keeper to run up to him.

“Eli! I haven’t seen you since the funeral. How have you been?” said the grounds keeper too excited to even care about the third strike he was given before for socializing too much.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, you know about my mom,” said Eli.

“I thought you took care of everything the months before your mom died.” asked the grounds keeper, but before Eli could answer, he was being dragged away by one of the nuns.

Eli tugged his arm away and spat, “I'll be there in a second, God!” The nun walked away saying nothing since Eli's father told her that Eli is extremely sensitive making it useless to scold him.

The nun felt mighty when she spoke, “Sin and you will behold the wrath of Hell where you shall be tortured your whole afterlife; judging none, loving all, and following God’s path will lead you to Heaven where no kind of tragedy penetrates your afterlife; only happiness. Before I go into the complicated areas, is anybody confused?”
Eli stood up and opened his mouth, but heads turned while laughter flooded the classroom.
“Judge none!” yelled the nun.
Opening his mouth again Eli said, “If there’s no tragedy in heaven, why is it worth going to heaven?”
A smirk grew upon the nun's face and she said, “Explain your question to the rest of the class.”

Reluctant and impatient Eli rolled his eyes and said, “Before my mother died, she told me the only way of finding happiness is by going through tragedy, but you said heaven has no tragedy. Okay, so like, if my mom doesn’t deserve heaven or hell, where’d she go?”

As she nervously flipped through pages in the Bible, the nun murmured, “In Exodus 17:12, faith strengthened Moses’ hands.” By now every face except the teacher's was in confusion.

Eli spat, “Well, I have no idea why you’re talking about Moses’ hands, but my hands are touching the door knob.”

As he walked down the hall, he put on a pair of gloves his mother had knitted him. Out on the street he was ignoring the ground he walked on. As he tripped on a pot hole his, hands fell before him on wet cement. The cement held a hand print mimicking and recording every stitch his mother made. For the first time in a year Eli felt relieved. It was one of the greatest comforts to ever overcome his thoughts.

Staring at silver artwork, he joyfully wrote on the cement, “I know where she went.” Eli realized that nobody ever dies if their print is always left behind.





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