Young Tommy had always shared a special bond with his grandmother, attending Sunday services together every week. Church played an important role in his upbringing, and when the time came for his very first confession, his grandmother made sure he understood what to expect. “You’ll step into a small booth, talk to the priest, and tell him about the things you’ve done wrong,” she explained gently. “He’ll listen, forgive you, and guide you to do better.” Tommy nodded, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement.
On the day of his first confession, Tommy entered the confessional booth, the curtain brushing his shoulders as it closed behind him. He took a seat and nervously waited as the wooden screen slid open, revealing the kind face of the priest.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” he whispered.
The priest encouraged him to continue. “Go ahead, my son. Tell me what’s troubling you.”
Tommy listed his misdeeds: “I took a pencil from school… I said a bad word… and I told a fib to my mom.”
The priest nodded patiently. “Those are not so terrible, my child. Anything else?”
Tommy paused, then admitted, “I also threw my sister’s Barbie out the window and told her it ran away.”
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