For years during my childhood I would spend Saturday mornings at St. John the Apostle sitting at an old wooden desk, while a fully-habited nun taught me and my classmates Catholic biblical stories and rules.
One such Saturday was spent telling us impressionable 4th graders about THE END OF THE WORLD.
I don’t know about the other kids in my class, but for me, Miss Worry Wart, who also right about that same time, overheard adults talking about spinal meningitis and how it can kill a person - so immediately my back started ACHING; thus assuring my overactive imagination that I would shortly be succumbing to the disease, but I digress.
That particular Saturday morning just about ruined my year.
The nun said that when the end of the world was upon us “the sun, the moon and the stars” would appear together in the sky.
So you can imagine how I felt when shortly thereafter on a bright sunny day, I saw something similar to this:
I ran straight to my parent’s bedroom and fell to my knees beneath the scary-looking crucifix they had hanging on the wall, where I proceeded to cry and plead with God that it not be the end.
So this morning on my walk to the office as I spotted that beautiful moon, high up in the sunny sky, it made me think of 4th grade CCD and being scared/scarred with stories told by a nun.
it wasn't fun