Illustration Miranda Foxx
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Ruth Daniell /
oby has tried almost everything the last four years and
still no baby. She decided to try praying. Pat has been very
understanding.
She sits, alone, in the middle of a pew in the middle of the
church. Throughout the sermon, she waits for the celebration of
the Eucharist and tries not to let her mind wander. She wonders if
the cathedral has relationships with several different local bakeries,
or if the bread always comes from the same bakery. Who bakes the
bread, she wonders, and how does it become different when it is
blessed? Coby does not understand how miracles work. During the
course of the sermon, she has decided that her favourite angel is
the one that’s already in the clouds waiting for the ascending Jesus.
It has emerald-green wings and is beautiful in its genderlessness.
Although it embarrasses her to think this, she suddenly wonders if
angels have genitalia. Angels do not have bodies like humans have
bodies. Coby thinks about bodies a lot. Her body, a lot. It seems to
fail her. She has taken Pat’s body into her body, they have kissed and
kissed and kissed, and she has been full of the hope for the miracle
of life. Nothing. Today, she thinks, I will pray for that miracle.
The sermon finishes, and the congregation pauses for prayers of
thanksgiving. Coby kneels on the ground. She can feel the pinpricks