My ten year old woke me up at 4:00 a.m. claiming to have had a bad dream, but he could not say what it was about. So I walked him back to bed and tucked him in. He was sleeping again before his head hit the pillow.
The next morning, I asked him if he could remember what happened in his nightmare.
“It wasn’t that bad. It was just weird,” then his eyes lit up, “and do you know who was in it?”
“Was he watching over you?”
“No, he was just there.” He paused, deep in thought,”but don’t you think it’s strange that nobody ever picked Francis for their Pope name before? It’s a good name.”