They were learning about miracle cakes, about how the good lord would provide for them if they provided the flour and the faith. Mr. Donlevy gave them all a sample of his. “This is pretty good,” said Alex.

Mr. Donlevy was annoyed. “Of course it’s good. God made it.”

“Mr. Donlevy!” Brian Quick didn’t want to eat it. “Mr. Donlevy! I’m not supposed to eat anything during Lent unless it’s Sunday and then it’s okay as long as it isn’t sugary or anything. I’ll get in trouble!”

“How many of you are fasting?” Everyone except Alex raised their hands. “How many of you ate the cake anyway?” Only a few hands went down. Mr. Donlevy glowered at them. “Preeti, why did you eat it?”

“I was hungry,” she said, and everyone laughed.

“Anybody else? Sean?”

“You’re the teacher,” Sean snarled. “You wouldn’t make us do something we weren’t supposed to do. That’d be stupid.

“Jesus wept,” said Mr. Donlevy. “That’s a bad reason to do something you’re not sure about. Always ask! There’s a specific exception for miracle bread, but you wouldn’t know that unless you ask. Everyone open your commentaries to page 432. Brian, since you asked the question, why don’t you read first?”

Alex, whose parents were registered atheists, took another piece of miracle bread. Miracles tasted like cheese and green onions.