1930s Church Boy — John Doe

John's eyes fell on the small Jesus figurine on the grand table behind the censer. It was abandoned, malnourished, forgot by the priests and the beati.

It was different from the others statuettes. The others were images of a healthy and beautiful Jesus, covered in red robes and wearing a golden crowned, adorned by different jewels. Most of the were gifts from the religious to the Church. A proof of their faith—and their money, exposing how wealthy they were to the others.

But John's eyes were focused on the malnourished figurine. It was black, dirty by the ashes exhaled from the censer, almost looked like a random stone that was lost on the saint place. But still, he found it beautiful. He was brought closer, feeling the holy aura around the table. Himself didn't have the money to buy a figurine for his house, the ones there were made of wood, not even painted, just carved.

Mary held him, offering her Son to be taken care of by John, offering her Son because she knows that it'll be taken good care by Doe. His family wasn't wealthy, they live by (mostly) the donations they received from the church—thus his love by the institution.

He dreamed of becoming a priest himself, helping the innocent and poor children that were forgotten by the rich christians. He would prove his faith, show his love for Christ by, like Him, loving the children.

He nervously looked around, searching for any sound of steps or shoes. The Mass would start in moments, he needed to be quick, or else he wouldn't be able to take the statuette with him. But it seemed like he wouldn't be surprised.

Raising his hand, John's heart was filled by desperation and fear. He was sinning, not only stealing, but stealing from the church! The sacred home for the christians. He felt dirty, even shoved his hand in his pocket, trying to forget what he was doing. Images of hell corrupted his mind, uncountable screams of mercy and plead, being muffed by whips and explosions.

His face went cold, just like his body. Scared he turned around on his heel, ready to leave. But he stopped as he saw the image of Jesus above the organ. Its eye ran over the red mats, ending on him. In that moment John felt warm again, God himself was soothing his aches, freeing him from his thoughts.

Once again: he made sure no one was near and raised his hand. This time though, he took the figurine. He gently rubbed the fabric of his coat on the face of the Lamb, and then took it close on his chest. He could feel the warm feeling. He could hear the thanks from Mary, someone finally would take care of her Son. And John loved it back.

Carrying it with him, he sat down on the benches. A proud smile was painted on his lips. And soon, the crowd of christians materialized at the door of the chapel. He didn't even notice when they entered, too focused on the figurine on his hands. But his mind went back to the present once he felt someone sitting on his side.