"Father..."
Father John placed his hand on young Thomas's shoulder. "Aye, my son."
"Will God help us? Will He send His angelic hosts to protect us?"
The father's nose, which was unusually red, twitched. He smiled at the boy. "He has protected us thus far." He covered his mouth with a belch and continued. "We must have courage and believe."
"But how will we know?"
The father raised a brow. "Know what?"
"How will we know if angels are protecting us?"
"Angels are always protecting those that believe, my son."
