John Smith was not a
particularly religious man, though he enjoyed the pleas of Southern gospel
music and once prayed to Mother Mary when his knee failed him. A practical man, John Smith could think of no
figure of authority larger than Mother Mary.
One evening, while
sitting in his leather evening chair, John Smith looked down and saw in some disturbed
weaves of his carpet, what seemed the face of Jesus. To be fair, John Smith only knew Jesus as he’d
seen him in a flowing painting at his grandmother’s house.
But there he was in the
carpet.
Jesus.
Why Jesus? Why now?
What if he accidentally stepped on Jesus on the way to the bathroom?
John Smith, the practical
man, hobbling on one crutch, retrieved his vacuum cleaner from the hall closet
and quickly vacuumed Jesus into plain-old carpet again.
--Mitchell Hegman
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