Driving to school yesterday morning Eva intently searched the sky for the “stairs to heaven,” convinced they were simply waiting for her to discover. Thanks to a neighbor friend "sharing her faith," Eva had the details of this fairytale down pat: the stairway, angels, spirits, god--they were all there, "just up there," she insisted while pointing to the sky. When I told her she is already an angel, she quickly corrected me, “No I’m not because I don’t have wings…but when I get to heaven I will have magic and can fly without wings.” Later in the day, she expressed her dismay that god had not given her wings... ...Outside my window, I see a plump raven perched on a light pole next to the church’s white steeple. It flies away leaving a steeple pointing to the sky.
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