“Mama’s soul,” said Cyprian, “will go straight into Paradise.”
“Who knows, child! Perhaps the Paradise for the souls of the dead is the hearts of the living.”
“I don’t understand what you say.”
“It is possible,” said Ramón, “that even now the only Paradise for the soul of your mother is in my heart.”
The two boys stared at him with open eyes.
“Never will I believe that,” said Cyprian.
“Or it may be in thy heart,” said Ramón. “Hast thou a place in thy heart for the soul of thy mother?”
The young Cyprian stared with bewildered hazel eyes.
“The soul of my mother goes direct to Paradise, because she is a saint,” he asserted flatly.
“Which Paradise, my son?”