We are punished by our sins, not for them. (Elbert Hubbard)

He did too. He put a suit jacket over his clothes and followed me out. I usually drove to church myself because it didn’t seem very humble to roll up in my chauffeured Lincoln. I usually took my beamer, it was a couple years old and pretty modest but now I was with Senior. I couldn’t stuff him in a BMW. So I called the driver and three and half minutes later we left.

We walked in. I moved apprehensively toward my usual spot in the fourth row. Mr. Winter stopped me with a handshake and asked about “my friend”. I had been going to New Hope for a while now but since I dropped out of bible study I really didn't get involved there. Christian still played in the church band. We smiled at one another from time to time but that was the extent of it. Other than a few of the older people like Mr. Winter I didn't really speak to anyone.

“This is my grandfather,” I introduced. “This is Mr. Winter.”

They shook hands.

“This is some granddaughter you've got here.”

Senior put his hand on my shoulder and nodded appreciatively.