Chapter 7 - “DON’T LET ANYONE CONFUSE YOU”On the drive home, Clara asked seventeen questions.
Elena counted.
Not intentionally.
The number simply became impossible to ignore.
“Why don't Baptists have First Communion like us?”
“Why doesn't Noah have a rosary?”
“Do Baptists have saints?”
“Why does Noah call their pastor ‘Pastor Jim’ instead of ‘Father’?”
“Do Baptist kids go to heaven?”
That last question made Elena turn down the radio.
“Clara.”
“What?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“I don't know.”
“Yes, you do.”
Clara stared out the passenger-side window.
“Grandma said people need the true church.”
Elena's grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“When did Grandma say that?”
“At Christmas.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“I don't remember.”
That was the problem.
Children remembered pieces.
Not context.
Not caveats.
Pieces.
Elena's mother, Teresa, had strong views and expressed them directly.
She also loved Clara fiercely and would never deliberately frighten her.
But words didn't need malicious intent to become frightening.
“Listen to me,” Elena said.
“God's judgment is not something you and I make for other people.”
“So Noah can go to heaven?”
Elena hesitated.
Not because she wanted to condemn Noah.
Because the question was theologically bigger than the answer an eight-year-old wanted.
“I trust God with Noah.”
Clara frowned.
“That sounds like not answering.”
“Sometimes adults don't have the kind of answer kids want.”
“You always say that now.”
Elena almost replied defensively.
Then stopped.
Clara was right.
Before Noah, Elena's faith explanations had often been simple.
God loves you.
Prayer matters.
We are Catholic.
This is what we believe.
Clara had accepted them.
Now each statement opened another door.
That night, Elena called her mother.
“Did you tell Clara that people outside the Catholic Church aren't going to heaven?”
Teresa sounded offended.
“Of course not.”
“She remembers you saying people need the true church.”
“Well, they do.”
“Mom.”
“What?”
“She is eight.”
“And?”
“And she thinks Noah might be condemned because he's Baptist.”
Silence.
Teresa's voice softened.
“I never said that.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you blaming me?”
“I'm not.”
“You sound like you are.”
Elena rubbed her forehead.
“This isn't about blame.”
“It sounds like that church event put strange ideas in her head.”
There it was.
The easy explanation.
Someone else caused the confusion.
Elena heard her own voice from the previous week:
Don't let anyone confuse you.
“Mom,” she said quietly, “Noah didn't put anything strange in her head.”
“He told her Baptists are right.”
“No.”
“Then what did he say?”
“That his family prayed when his vision was bad and they believe God blessed him.”
Teresa was silent.
Elena continued:
“Clara had told him her legs improving meant he should become Catholic.”
“Oh.”
“That came from somewhere.”
“You taught her the faith.”
“Yes.”
“And now you're ashamed of that?”
“No.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Elena looked toward Clara's bedroom.
“I'm saying maybe she heard certainty where I intended trust.”
Teresa did not understand.
Or perhaps she understood too well.
The conversation ended politely but uneasily.
Across town, Rachel Bennett faced the mirror image.
Noah's grandmother, June, was visiting for dinner.
Noah told her everything.
June listened with interest.
“So Clara's Catholic?”
“Yes.”
“And you like her?”
“She's funny.”
“Good.”
Noah stabbed a green bean.
“Do Catholics go to heaven?”
Rachel closed her eyes.
June looked at her daughter.
Rachel silently mouthed:
Don't.
June smiled.
“Well, Noah, I think that's above my pay grade.”
Noah laughed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means God didn't hire me to run heaven.”
Rachel nearly applauded.
Noah thought.
“So you don't know?”
“I know what I believe.”
“Everybody says that.”
June's smile widened.
“Smart kid.”
After Noah left the table, Rachel said:
“Thank you.”
June shrugged.
“For admitting I don't control eternity?”
“For not giving him ammunition.”
June's expression changed.
“Is that what you're worried about?”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe don't make Clara ammunition either.”
Rachel frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“If Noah comes home saying Catholics are wrong, it's easy to correct the theology. Harder to correct what that does to his friendship.”
Rachel leaned back.
“You think I'm doing that?”
“I think you're scared someone else will shape his faith before you're finished shaping it.”
Rachel stared at her mother.
June took another bite.
“That's normal.”
“Helpful.”
“Normal isn't always helpful.”
Rachel sighed.
A moment later Noah appeared in the doorway.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Can Clara come to our church sometime?”
Rachel froze.
June looked down at her plate to hide a smile.
May you like
The questions were getting more complicated.
And now they were becoming invitations.
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