"Poor little guy," Jeromy thought. "He hasn't the faintest idea what has happened.

But what about me? I can't take care of a baby!" He was right. He had only

changed Joshua's diaper twice, and both times had bungled it so badly that Mary

had refused to allow him to try again. And what about feeding him? Mary had

taken the greatest care to offer the baby only homemade, organically grown baby

food along with her breastmilk. Well, her breasts would be giving no more milk to

this child, or any other for that matter. He couldn't believe she was gone; this

hadn't been part of the plan.

"God, why did this have to happen?" he screamed, without emitting a sound

or even moving his lips. But he knew God had heard him. Still, there was no

answer--no flash of light, no comforting voice, nothing. What did he expect,

anyway? He thought of a scripture verse: "Blessed are those who have not seen,

yet believe." He repeated the scripture four or five times in his head, but with each

repetition believed it less. He stopped before his faith had completely faded away.

He stood up and carried an armload of wood back into the living room. His

mother-in-law was finishing off her third glass of Jack Daniels in less than an hour.


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