The Little Boy and the Confession
A little boy named Tommy went to church with his grandma every Sunday.
One day, Grandma told him it was time to make his very first confession.
She gently explained, “You go into that little booth, tell the priest your sins, and he’ll forgive you.”
Tommy was nervous but agreed. He walked into the confessional, sat down, and the priest slid open the small wooden window.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” Tommy whispered.
The priest smiled kindly. “Go ahead, my son. What are your sins?”
Tommy took a deep breath.
“Well… I stole a pencil from school, I said a bad word, and I lied to my mom.”
The priest nodded patiently. “That’s not too bad. Anything else?”
Tommy thought for a moment. “Umm… oh yeah! I threw my sister’s Barbie out the window and told her she ran away.”
The priest chuckled softly. “Anything else?”
Tommy scratched his head. “Oh! And last night, I put toothpaste on Grandpa’s dentures while he was sleeping.”
The priest tried not to laugh. “Alright, my son. Say three Hail Marys and try to be a better boy.”
Tommy nodded proudly and left the booth.
When he walked out, Grandma smiled and asked, “How did it go?”
Tommy grinned from ear to ear.
“Piece of cake, Grandma… but I don’t think that guy behind the screen knows half the stuff I’ve done!”
A few days later, Tommy’s mother told him she couldn’t afford to buy him a new bike. But she suggested something instead:
“If you write a letter to Jesus and promise to be a good boy, maybe He’ll help you get one.”
So Tommy sat down and began to write.
“Dear Jesus, I promise to be good for one year…”
He frowned, crossed it out, and started again.
“Dear Jesus, I promise to be good for one month.”
Still not satisfied, he crossed it out again.
“Dear Jesus, I promise to be good for one week.”
Tommy sighed, crumpled up the paper, and decided to take a walk.
As he passed by the local church, he noticed the nativity scene outside.
When no one was looking, he quietly picked up the statue of Mary, tucked it under his coat, and hurried home.
There, he started a new letter:
“Dear Jesus, if you ever want to see your mother again…”
Not long after, Tommy went to his first wedding.
After the ceremony, his cousin asked, “How many women can a man marry?”
“Sixteen,” Tommy replied instantly.
His cousin was amazed. “How do you know that?”
Tommy shrugged and said, “Easy! The preacher said it himself — four better, four worse, four richer, four poorer!”
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