“She’s this way,” the father said, beaming with pride. “Kind of you to come.”
Six men and women filed into the bedroom. The girl slept in her cot, surrounded by soft toys: donkeys, sheep, cows.
“We’ve gifts for our Saviour,” said Theresa. Sure enough, they all had useful presents – baby oil, nappies, Baby-Gros.
“But...” said Ganesh, “isn’t she our Hindu God? Am I mistaken?”
“Is she Sikh?”
“Jewish, even?”
“Or a Prophet of Islam?”
“A new Buddha?”
The newborn’s father sighed. “She’s supposed to be without sin. Let’s not push her into making her first mistake too quickly, shall we?”
Six men and women filed into the bedroom. The girl slept in her cot, surrounded by soft toys: donkeys, sheep, cows.
“We’ve gifts for our Saviour,” said Theresa. Sure enough, they all had useful presents – baby oil, nappies, Baby-Gros.
“But...” said Ganesh, “isn’t she our Hindu God? Am I mistaken?”
“Is she Sikh?”
“Jewish, even?”
“Or a Prophet of Islam?”
“A new Buddha?”
The newborn’s father sighed. “She’s supposed to be without sin. Let’s not push her into making her first mistake too quickly, shall we?”
