Ashley Sinnott '06 | Winter 2013-14 | Notre Dame Magazine
When I was little, God had a beard. He wore a blue robe, his hair grew thick as jump ropes and he was very, very old. When I learned someone named Mary was God’s mom, she confused this picture, so at first I didn’t care for her much.
When I was 6, my mom buried a statue of Saint Joseph in our garden, a bit of Catholic-flavored voodoo that was supposed to help us sell our house.
“Who’s that?” my sister, Devin, had asked, pointing to the statue.