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A fragment of the Garden of Remembering
My mother's side of the family was Catholic, though not very good ones, and so had the usual assortment of statues, crucifixes, etc. Mom was definitely not Catholic, and when we were touring a new home for them, there was a niche in the wall in the living room. Naturally I whispered, 'What the hell is that for?' Mom answered, 'It's the Jesus hole.' Never laughed so hard in my life. At least not at a house showing.
