Curious

When you're nine years old, you don't run out of questions. Good marbles, pumpkin seeds, pocket change you run out of- questions, no. Not John. His patient dad just sighed. He knew what was coming. Young John went on, "So, dad. I still want to know why. Why is the tree called Saint John's Bread? Was it his tree? Trees can't grow bread. Could his?" The questions were humorous, but the lad was so sincerely curious, you respect that. John's dad was about to offer some skeptical reply, when his cell phone rang. John heard his dad talking politics with his friend, at one point saying "Yep, true, they all lie. But, I'll just keep believing it turns out okay." His dad soon hung up, and John came over and stood directly before him, silent. After a few moments his dad asked, "Was there something more, son?" "Yes. You just believe sometimes, right? Even when you don't know." The boy was calmly serious. "Why, yes. Of course. Sometimes." John's dad replied. "Then it could be Saint John's tree, and could be his tree grows bread!", the jubilant boy repeated. That kind of inspired logic, you also respect.