Angela was ten years old when Pastor Mark came to her church.

Pastor Mark was very different from Pastor Larson. Pastor Larson had been a strict, surly old man. Pastor Mark was fresh-faced and friendly. He waltzed into the church with a spring in his step, bringing with him a deluge of new ideas for the congregation. His first request was that the parishioners refer to him as Pastor Mark, rather than Pastor Davis. "I don't want you putting me on a pedestal," he informed them. "I'm simply one of you." Many of the congregants were initially put off by the informality, but they soon warmed up to Pastor Mark. The kind, inviting aura he practically radiated made it nearly impossible not to.

One of the first things Pastor Mark did upon his arrival was create a church youth group, which ran once a week on Thursday nights. He felt it was important that he connect personally with the congregation's children "to provide each of them with the guidance and support necessary to successfully embark on their God-given journey." His impassioned speech on the topic quickly won over the parishioners, who were then further convinced when they saw Pastor Mark in action. He just had a way with children that made him a beloved figure almost instantly.

Angela was no exception to this—she adored Pastor Mark. He was the nicest, most interesting, most knowledgeable person she had ever met. At the youth group, he held group discussions about the Bible during which he allowed any child to share their thoughts and ideas. He always brought a delicious snack to hand out, and at the end of the night he would organize a big game for everyone.

Over the first few youth group sessions he ran, Pastor Mark also made time for a private conversation with each child to get to know them. It was the third week when Angela was called up just as the evening was coming to a close. As the other children filed out of the room she approached Pastor Mark timidly, nervous to speak to him alone. He motioned to the chair next to him. Angela smoothed her skirt, sat carefully on the chair, and folded her hands neatly in her lap.

Pastor Mark waited a few seconds before speaking. "So, Angela, tell me about your family."

Angela never liked when people asked her that. She was never quite sure what to say. When she pictured her family she thought of seven people—but four were gone now, and her father had forbidden her from speaking about three of them. Usually Angela would only mention Rachael and her father in her response to such a question, but she always felt uncomfortable omitting the others. It was as if she was pretending some of the most important people in her life had never existed.

In this case, though, it was a pastor asking about her family. And not just any pastor—it was Pastor Mark, who was smiling at her encouragingly with that warm, kind look in his eyes. Looking up at him, Angela felt her nerves fade away. She knew she could tell him the truth.

So she told him everything. She told him about Rachael and the secret language they were inventing together. She told him about her father whom she loved very much even though he scared her sometimes. She told him about her mother and how sometimes Angela missed her so much that she got angry at God for having taken her away. She told him about Sarah and Naomi and how they had both left that terrible night and never come back.

And she told him about Jacob, her older brother who used to play house and jump rope with her until one day her father sent him off to a special boarding school. Angela's confusion at her brother's sudden departure had only been intensified by the fact that her father got very angry whenever she asked when Jacob would be back. She quickly learned to stop asking, but she never stopped hoping each Christmas and summer that Jacob would come home. He never did. It was years before Sarah finally told Angela the truth—their father had caught Jacob kissing another boy. But Angela struggled to believe it. The Jacob she remembered would never commit such a sinful act.

Angela shocked herself with the things she was telling Pastor Mark. She just kept talking and he kept listening, and all of the thoughts and fears and feelings she had been holding in for years were spilling out. She was telling him things she had never said out loud to anyone—things she struggled to admit even to herself. And the longer the conversation went on, the lighter she felt. As though everything she had been keeping inside had been weighing her down without her even realizing it.

When Angela finally finished there was a long pause as Pastor Mark waited to make sure she really had nothing more to say. He let the silence hang in the air for several seconds before breaking it. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Angela. I know that must have been difficult. I really appreciate your honesty, and I hope you know that you can trust me. Anything you tell me stays between us, alright? That's a promise." He smiled at her before glancing down at his watch. "Oh my, it's getting late. And we certainly don't want your father to worry, do we, so how about I drive you home?"

Angela was a bit startled by the rush of excitement that flooded through her at this proposition. She just about blurted out an affirmative response before remembering her manners. "Well, as long as it wouldn't trouble you…"

Pastor Mark shook his head and stood up. "Of course not. I'll feel better knowing you got home safely, anyways." He began collecting his things from his desk. "Go get your jacket and we'll head out."

After flicking off the light switch and locking the doors, Pastor Mark led Angela outside to the parking lot. When they reached his car, he opened the door for her and she slid into the back seat. Pastor Mark sat down in the driver's seat and turned the ignition. Again, Angela felt that strange rush of excitement as they set off. Out of habit she bit her lip to stop herself from smiling before being hit with the delightful realization that there was no reason to do so. She let happiness engulf her as she gazed out the car window into the dusky evening sky.

When Pastor Mark pulled up in front of the Martin house he twisted around to face Angela in the back seat. "You know, Angela, I'd love to talk to you again next week. Maybe you could come see me after the youth group is over, just like tonight. Would you like that?"

Angela could hardly believe her ears. Could this night get any better?

"Oh yes," she exclaimed almost before Pastor Mark had finished. She quickly remembered her manners and felt her face flush at her overeagerness. "I mean, yes, I would. I would very much like that. Thank you."

Pastor Mark gave her a warm smile. "That's wonderful, Angela. I'll look forward to seeing you then."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Angela's visits with Pastor Mark quickly became routine. Every Thursday, she would stay late with him after the youth group had finished and he would drive her home afterwards. Some nights they just sat and talked; other times Angela helped Pastor Mark with tasks around the church. And sometimes they sat across from each other in silence, Angela poring over homework questions while Pastor Mark filled out paperwork. It was on one of those nights, several months after their weekly ritual had begun, that Angela finally worked up the courage to ask Pastor Mark a question she had been wondering about for years.

Pastor Mark was shuffling through some papers and Angela was supposedly working on arithmetic problems when she blurted it out. "What does it mean to have sex?"

Angela wasn't completely naive—she had heard of sex before. It wasn't uncommon to hear it discussed in Sunday sermons nor in the school cafeteria. She knew that sex was something that a man and a woman, and only a man and a woman, did together. She knew that a man and a woman could only do this activity once they had been married, and that to do so before their marriage would be a very serious sin. She also knew that people sometimes felt urges to have sex outside the sacred bounds of marriage, but that these urges must be controlled. To act on them would be a betrayal to God.

All of this had been made clear to Angela many times over. She knew very well the many ways that sex could lead a person—especially a young woman—into a life of sin. What she didn't understand was what exactly sex was. She had asked Sister Abigail the year prior, and the horrified reaction she had received had made her too scared to inquire again. But since then Angela's hunger to know what this wonderful, forbidden activity entailed had only grown. And it seemed to her that of all the adults she knew, Pastor Mark was by far the most likely to give her an answer.

Pastor Mark put down his papers and slowly raised his head to look at her. Angela could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as her heartbeat quickened. What if he gets angry? What if he won't want to see me again? But when his eyes met hers Angela's fears were immediately put to rest. Pastor Mark wasn't angry at all. In fact, he looked almost…pleased. A knowing smile came across his face. "Well Angela, that's a good question."

Pastor Mark looked deep into her eyes and explained everything. He answered with total honesty and in such great detail that after a while Angela noticed a slightly uncomfortable feeling creeping up inside of her. As if maybe this was too much, maybe this was more than she was supposed to know, more than she wanted to know. But Pastor Mark spoke slowly and calmly and without the slightest hint of discomfort, so Angela figured that whatever that niggling feeling was had best be ignored. Pastor Mark was only answering a question she herself had asked, and he would only ever lead her in the right direction.

Once he had finished his explanation, Pastor Mark paused for a second. He looked away, then returned his gaze to Angela. "You know, Angela, I'm very glad you asked me this. It's important that you know these things. Because one day, not so terribly far off, you're going to find the man you're meant to be with. And you'll need to know how to please him."

The thought of this gave rise to a confusing swirl of emotions that Angela quickly pushed away. Pastor Mark was surely right. As with everything in life, it was best to be prepared. She stared back at him intently, nodding her head and focusing on how grateful she was that he had provided her with the long-awaited answer to her burning question. "Yes," she replied. "Thank you."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Angela turned 11 years old, then 12. As the weeks since she had met Pastor Mark turned into months and years, their once weekly visits became more frequent. Several times a week Angela would make the long trek over to the church to see him. As she grew their conversations evolved, becoming deeper, darker, more intimate. He became her primary confidante. She shared everything with him—her deepest fears, her scariest thoughts, her darkest secrets. Things she didn't even share with Rachael.

Pastor Mark told Angela that she could come stay at his house whenever she wanted, for any reason whatsoever. He told her to tell her father that she was staying with a friend. It's not a lie, Angela would say to herself as she hurried along the sidewalk in the chilly darkness, skin still smarting from the slaps of her father's belt. He is my friend. She always breathed a sigh of relief when she, often with Rachael in tow, reached Pastor Mark's doorstep. He always greeted them both with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and when they got inside he would make them each a warm cup of tea with milk and extra sugar.

Angela's 13th birthday fell on a Thursday. After the youth group, as always, she remained while the other children collected their things and headed home. Once everyone else had left, Pastor Mark told her to wait while he went into the back room. He returned with a large gift box with a green bow on top and handed it to her, beaming. "Happy birthday, Angela." He stepped back and watched her expectantly.

Angela managed to restrain herself from tearing open the gift and instead carefully unpeeled the wrapping paper before lifting the lid off the box. Inside, she found a white blouse, a dark skirt, and a lovely pair of red shoes. Together they formed the most beautiful outfit Angela had ever seen. Never before had she owned anything so elegant. She stared at it, speechless, for several seconds before turning to Pastor Mark. "Thank you," she managed to stammer out. "It's…it's so beautiful."

Pastor Mark grinned at her. "It'll be even more beautiful once you're wearing it." He glanced down at the outfit, then back up at Angela. "How about you go put it on."

Angela ran to the bathroom and hurriedly changed in a stall. When she stepped out and saw herself in the mirror her face lit up with a delighted smile. She was not a vain girl—vanity was a sin, after all—but she truly was enchanted by how she looked in that outfit. The slight heel on the shoes made her a little bit taller, the dark pencil skirt hugged her legs, and the white blouse had lacy sleeves and a lower-cut neckline than she had ever worn before. So grown-up, so mature, so sophisticated.

Pastor Mark looked almost more delighted than she was when he saw her. "Oh, Angela," he breathed. "You look marvelous." But his smile faltered when he saw her face fall suddenly. "What's wrong?"

Never in her life had Angela wanted an object as much as she wanted that outfit. But as much as she wished it weren't true, she knew her father would never allow her to keep it. The dress code in the Martin household was strict and there was no getting around the fact that the splendid ensemble she was wearing broke just about every rule. Angela looked up at Pastor Mark, unsure of what to say. "I don't…" she faltered and looked down at the floor. "I don't think Father will let me have it."

"Oh." Pastor Mark's expression remained neutral. "I see. But, do you like it?"

"I love it." Angela meant it with all her heart. "It's…wonderful."

Pastor Mark nodded thoughtfully. "Well," he replied, "How about I keep it at my house, then? You can wear it whenever you come to see me."

The smile returned to Angela's face. She felt a bit badly doing something she knew her father would disapprove of, but the outfit was just so beautiful and she would feel far worse not showing Pastor Mark how much she appreciated it. "That sounds excellent," she told him. "Thank you so much."

Angela couldn't remember the last time she had felt so truly happy.