Johnny's letter: Dear Ma,
I been thinkin' about Mrs. Carducci lately, and her pizza. Now, don't get mad, but maybe she wasn't lyin'. Maybe it happened like she said, while she was in the other room, yakkin' on the phone to her sister. Cheese and tomato sauce could burn naturally like that, with the dark spots ending up making a perfect picture of Jesus.
I know you think the bishop was duped, Ma, and was a complete idiot for blessing the pizza, and calling it a miracle. And maybe Mrs. Carducci was nothing but a phony social climber. But out here on the road, I've seen things, Ma. And I've come to believe that even the most undeserving people can experience a moment of grace. Not to mention that was the same summer Maria, Mrs. Carducci's daughter, unbelievably lost her mustache. Plus not to mention something else I happen to remember.
The nuns used to tell us, "Act as if you had faith, and faith will be given to you." Well, I'm tryin', Ma. And I want you to keep the faith, too. Okay? Until that miraculous day,