Last year, when she was five, my daughter announced that she was going to become a Muslim.

'It's an awful lot of washing,' I said.

'Don't worry, I am able to reach the sink with my feet.' She went up to her room and stuck six sheets of paper together to make a prayer mat. It was time, I decided, to send her to Catholic Instruction. This is an after-school class that, besides fulfilling her tribal spiritual needs, provides a solid half-hour of free childcare, every Monday. It is conducted by a catechetics expert in lace-up shoes who looks like she means business. When I drove my daughter home after her first class, she was quite unhinged, muttering like an old gossip and quietly raving in the back of the car.

'I didn't know he was arrested,' she said.

'What? Who?'

'Jesus,' she said. 'I knew they killed him all right. I just didn't know they arrested him first.'

LRB 10 May 2007 | PDF Download