We try not to deny any books to our children. If they can reach it, they can read it. (We try to limit how many books they eat, of course.) The other day Lana was flipping through a book that someone had erroneously told her contained different pictures of what Jesus might have looked like. It was actually Jesus and the Twelve[1]. It has one image of Jesus and twelve other images. Judas is especially sinister; Saint Paul doesn't get an image, just a one-page summary; but Matthias is excluded entirely.
Lana, thinking each image was a try at Jesus' likeness, flipped through the pages, checking each one and judging it, "No, that's not Jesus. Nope, that's not Jesus...."
When she had gone through each disciple, she finally arrived at the Jesus image and decided, "Oh, yeah, that's Jesus," like she was certain or she had almost forgotten what he looked like until that moment.
That makes me sick to my stomach.
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