Intervention

The tune was familiar though she could not place the name without the words.  Sarah knelt at the edge of a row looking up at the cross on the wall. She had not been to a church in a while, and she was not Catholic, but as she drove by Sarah had felt compelled to stop.  She had been certain that she would know a course of action once she was in the thick of things.  Now, with her knees on the wooden floors, she was unsure of what to do. She wasn’t unstuck she was no Billy Pilgrim, she had no idea of what was supposed to happen next. The wood all around her was polished to a high sheen, candles lined the wall to her left. Why did Catholics laqueur everything  and surround themselves with candles… isn’t that a bad combination? An accelerant for the fire is not what the world needs these days. Sarah prayed for intervention. Intervention from what she did not know. The tune again caught her attention and Sarah began to hum along to the mysterious song.  The tune drew her attention to a speaker near a depiction of Mary. Sarah reached out to the painting, stopped as the tune ended, retracted her arm, and sat again on the floor.