Charles dreaded going to work. He knew what awaited him. A demanding boss and never being able to meet the ever-changing expectations he had for Charles’s work performance. When Charles did exactly what the boss told him to, the goal post moved. Charles lived in a little square house with his wife and two kids. When they hosted Thanksgiving Dinner, they had over 20 in attendance. There was joy in those feasts. Everyone is talking at once, and the horizon ahead is unlimited. Charles saved his money to take the family on vacation. There was not much money. Yet, Charles felt like a king. With his little boys and sweet wife, he knew they were going to make it. Every day was an adventure.

The good people in the French Quarter love life. They are originals, which is a high compliment. The spiritual side of life is recognized in the French Quarter. The precious Gift of life is a pretty good gig. When it is hard, it is marvelous. The concept of living out faith in the unseen and belief in our fellow human beings is powerful. What we see on the surface is not the whole story. The surface indeed only scratches the surface. Now we are in a season of reflection. What we are confronted with is often a scam or a disguise. It has been said that satan can present himself as an angel of light. Many have given their faith that they professed on the mountaintop for a bowl of lentils.

The Little Girl was bouncing the beachball through the Garden. She had a demure look with strange eyes. She told the Man who had been fasting that she had wonderful food for him if he would follow her back to her home. Her innocence was compelling until she looked at you. Then the effect was unease. Her voice was musical, and her words were like butter. She told the Man of her admiration for his teachings. She suggested they go to the beach, walk through the sand, and feel it between their toes. ‘They have a fish fry on Friday nights,’ the Girl said with a winning smile. ‘My first Fish Fry was with your Dad many years ago,’ the Girl continued. ‘We will eat fish until our bellies are full and then take a nap…tomorrow is a better day to save the world…don’t you think?’ the Girl said. ‘She sang a song like none the Man had heard…it was the sound of harps, and screams blended together,’ the Man noted with some fear. The Girl with the strange eyes had disappeared for a long while, when suddenly there she was again, no longer bouncing a beach ball but rather the head of John the Baptist.