On Palm Sunday, in Elizabeth, N. J., one Edward Fitzgerald, 22, was eating raspberry jelly for dessert and thinking holy thoughts. He was about to take a last delicious mouthful when he gave a cry and waved his spoon in the air. There, right in his dessert plate, was St. Thérèse, the Little Flower of Jesus. He had often seen her statue in churches. The image that now stared up out of his dish was precisely like these except that it was made out of fruit jelly and whipped cream. "Mother, come here!" cried Edward Fitzgerald. Mrs. Michael J. Fitzgerald, like...
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