Faith?
She smiled wryly and stared up at the sky. Then found a pebble nearby and flung it at the nearest cloud as she shouted â?you have a lousy sense of humor, Godâ?. And then she walked home, as near content as one can be when not getting anything one’s way. She sighed, but not too heavily, and accepted it as a sign. Lousy miracles are still miracles.