My grade school years were quite memorable at St. Christopher's. It was a Catholic school back in the day when nuns still wore those long blue garments with the flying nun hood. One thing you never wanted in your life was a call to the office of our principal Sister St. Anne. Over the years she had developed an efficiently swift swing with the blister paddle. You know the one. The board with the carved handle and holes drilled from top to bottom. Just before impact, as you were holding your ankles, you could hear the air whitling through the holes. Justice delivered. Sister St. Anne is one thing. God is another.
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