Free Daisy by Josi S. Kilpack Page B

had already told us she was a practicing Mormon. I was a little surprised that Ruby would state her opinion so strongly so early in the discussion. Paige seemed to realize she’d ended up in an unexpected spotlight and she cleared her throat.
    “I don’t think the problem is with organized religion, per se,” she said. “Throughout history, people have used religion and God as an excuse to do all kinds of terrible things. But religion was just that—their excuse. Religion has done as much to bring people together and accomplish amazing things as it has to destroy. It’s powerful.”
    She picked up her éclair, but put it back down when no one else spoke. She looked around and must have taken our silence as a sign we expected her to say more. “You all know I’m a Mormon,” she said. “Something you might not all know is that my church helps people all over the world. One of its missions is all about reaching out to those in need. In that way, I think organized religion is a really good thing, not just for its members, but for the people they can help.”
    Ruby leaned forward. “When you say help, don’t you just mean the boys in suits who teach about your church?”
    Paige shook her head and went on to describe the extensive service her church provided to all types of people. She also mentioned Mother Theresa and all the good she did as a Catholic nun. I knew all about Mother Theresa, but I kept that to myself. I wasn’t just raised Catholic, I was raised Catholic —Sunday Mass, first communion, praying to saints, the whole thing. I never questioned it, really, just nodded and listened and tried to be a good girl so I’d never have to confess anything. It wasn’t until I got older that I learned about the Crusades and politics.
    Paige continued to talk about a bunch of other non-Catholic religious people—some of whom I’d never heard of. The last person she brought up was Jesus. I avoided her eyes and nibbled at the éclair, but I wasn’t hungry, and sugar didn’t sound good, so I returned it to my napkin.
    “He was a good man,” Ilana said. “I’m Jewish, so, well . . .”
    She trailed off, but one look at Paige showed how hard the comment had hit her.
    After another moment, Paige continued. “I guess what I’m saying is that some people get so wrapped up in one thing—and it could be a good thing, even—that they lose sight of what’s most important. So that thing could be saving the heathen, like Nathan wanted to do in the book, even at the expense of his wife and daughters. Or it could be someone working so hard on a charity that helps people in another country but totally ignoring the needy right under their own roof. The organization isn’t the problem. It’s the slanted focus of someone who turns from devotion to obsession. And any obsession is unhealthy, especially if it’s at someone else’s expense.”
    Her voice had sped up as she reached the end of her monologue, which was too long not to sound defensive, but being a Mormon in California probably made her defensive.
    “You make a really good point,” Ruby said, nodding slightly. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Nathan used religion as a crutch to feel important and do what he wanted to do. Sort of took himself out of being responsible for anything—he could blame it all on God and his desire to serve.”
    Livvy squirmed in her chair. “Ooooh, that makes me hate him even more.”
    “I’m glad that your church is such a support to you,” I said to Paige. That would have been nice when I needed people to rally around me, but that hadn’t been my experience. “But not everyone gets the same kind of support through their parishes. What you said about good people in churches is true. Absolutely. And I think Paige is on to something when it comes to people using religion as a crutch—as an excuse.” I paused and organized my thoughts. “From my experience, the problem comes—and all too often—when people put church