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believe in God in the off chance you are right.”
    “But don’t you feel God’s love in your heart?” she asked.
    I took a moment to reflect to see if I could feel God’s love in my heart and I could.
    To this day, I don’t know if that was the love I had for myself or if God was doing a happy dance on my heart, but it felt good.
    I smiled and looked back at Sister Betty. “Yes, I do feel God’s love in my heart.”
    “Then have faith that we are right.”
    I nodded to her once again, having faith she was right.
    “Okay, now, class, I want you to take out a piece of paper and draw a biblical scene that we will hang in the hallway for parents’ day. Please draw something that you have learned in class over the last semester.”
    A week later, my mom came home from parents’ day. She was holding the picture that I drew in class that day.
    “Jenny, what the hell is this?” She held up the picture of the biblical scene I drew.
    “It’s the Virgin Mary, pregnant.”
    “But look what you have Joseph saying to Mary.”
    The bubble above Joseph’s head said, “Are you sure this baby isn’t mine?”

9
Like a Virgin
    I was in seventh grade when Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” came out. I remember staring at the TV with my mouth hanging open, watching her frolic around in a sexy wedding dress and rocking crucifixes like they were trendy accessories. I truly believed that the lyrics, “touched for the very first time,” were written for me. How was this creature named Madonna able to talk about sex like that and still call herself Madonna? How come she was allowed to roll around on the ground humping the floor and wear see-through shirts? I wanted to be her.
    But my mother came into the room and stopped in her tracks when she caught a glimpse of Madonna “for the very first time.” “There’s that sinner!” she said.
    “Madonna?” I replied.
    “Yes, who would ever wear a rosary as a necklace?”
    “Um … nuns do,” I said as quietly as possible.
    My mother did not enjoy my quick point of view on the matter. “That’s different,” she said.
    “How so?” I asked.
    “Because Madonna is using them to be sexy. Nuns wear them because they are respecting God. Madonna is evil. There is no way any mother would name her child Madonna and let her look like that. She’s trying to lure men into her sexually spun web of promiscuity.”
    Wow, that’s awesome, I thought.
    My mother pointed to the TV just as Madonna began practically masturbating on a boat in the canals of Venice.
    “I like her music,” I said casually. “I think she’s pretty.”
    “Jenny, you can’t look up to girls like that. She’s a disgrace to God. What self-respecting man wears a lion head? That’s obviously symbolism for bestiality and that is a serious sin. You wouldn’t be friends with someone who slaps God in the face, now would you?”
    “No, of course not,” I said.
    My mom patted me on the back and walked out of the room.
    I ran to my bedroom and pulled one of my two thousand rosaries off one of my two hundred crucifixes and put it around my neck with a scapular for good measure. I then proceeded to pull one shoulder of my sweater down to reveal my training bra strap. I walked in front of the mirror and began flipping my hair as I danced around and sang every lyric. “Like a vir-r-r-r-gin, touched for the very first time.”
    It felt so good to be doing something I wasn’t supposed to do. It kind of felt like when I would wake up in the middle of the night to steal a bunch of JoJo’s trick-or-treat candy (which I did only two times, JoJo … okay, maybe three). I couldn’t understand why being naughty felt so good. So I went to the free therapist—our priest.
    “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
    “What is it?”
    “Well, I kinda just want to know why it feels so good to sin.”
    “Hmm … Let’s start with which sin you are referring to.”
    “Well, I’m not even sure if this is an actual sin, but I