It took about a week for the Polish nun who ruled supreme over my 2nd grade class
to notice I had stopped praying aloud like my classmates who dutifully repeated
the Our Father and Hail Mary spelled out on the chalk board.
She berated me with withering scorn as 29 other 2nd graders read the words off the board. Finally, I was sent to fetch my 8th grade brother to explain what sort of family raised a child who refused to pray.
Tell her our family prays in silence, he advised on the long walk down the school’s hallways as we returned to the angry nun.
I took his advice, folding to the pressure. It felt like a sin.