Sister Mary's Relief: "I Thought You Said a Protestant!" ⛪😇😂

The Word That Took Down Sister Mary

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of Sister Mary's third-grade classroom at St. Cecilia's Parochial School. The good nun, a woman whose stern demeanor was softened only by her deep, genuine care for her students, was conducting her favorite lesson: "What I Want to Be When I Grow Up."

One by one, the little girls gave their wholesome answers. "A teacher, like you, Sister!" "A nurse!" "A mother!"

Then, little Lisa, a bright and earnest child, eagerly raised her hand. Sister Mary smiled, nodding for her to speak.

"Sister," Lisa declared with pure, unshakable conviction, "I want to be a prostitute!"

The color drained from Sister Mary's face. A collective, sharp gasp sucked the air from the room. Before anyone could move, the nun's eyes rolled back, and she crumpled to the floor in a faint, her rosary beads clattering beside her.

After a few frantic minutes with smelling salts and damp cloths, Sister Mary fluttered her eyes open, her gaze immediately locking onto Lisa. Her voice was weak but urgent.

"Lisa, child," she whispered, "repeat what you said. Please."

Proudly, and without a hint of shame, Lisa repeated, "I said I want to be a prostitute!"

A wave of profound relief washed over Sister Mary's face. She managed a weak smile, patting Lisa's hand.

"Oh, thanks be to God," she breathed, smoothing her habit. "For a moment, I thought you said a Protestant."