truth is stranger than fiction

On the last day of our camping trip, Mary and I were sitting lazily next to the very smoky campfire, our eyes watering as we talked about nothing in particular. I had my sketchbook in my lap, deluding myself into thinking that I was actually about to draw something.

Mary commented that she wanted to burn a piece of paper. I had some sheets I wanted to tear out of my sketchbook anyway, so I told her she could have one. Now it just so happened that the paper I tore out contained a sketch of Jesus, something I had been practicing for a project. I had attempted to draw him in a seated position, and it was a disaster.

I couldn't just let Mary turn Jesus into a pile of ashes. That seemed rather sacreligious. So I decided to exercise artistic liberties and change Jesus into a normal person. In a sudden flash of inspiration, I erased Jesus' sash and engraved "I [heart] NY" on his robe with my mechanical pencil. Then I changed the bottom of his robe into a pair of jeans. Because I couldn't just burn Jesus.

Mary lit the corner of the paper in the campfire, and placed it onto a patch of bare dirt while we watched it glow, curl, and shrivel. Soon the paper was reduced to nothing but a frail castle of ash, which fluttered into nothing at the merest breeze.

We resumed our conversation, having been momentarily diverted. Mary poked around in the ashes with a stick, and I noticed a lone scrap of paper, facedown, smoke-blackened around the edges yet unburned for the most part. I joked that it was probably the scrap that said "I [heart] NY", and so Mary turned it over with the end of her stick. Imagine my surprise when I saw this:

Jesus' face looked down in what seemed to me gentle compassion, and written across his chest were the words "I Love"....


I leave you to draw your own conclusions.