The priest noticed a boy wearing a raincoat

<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0qWbnbGYRFUPTQ-rUWiCCrlKKCcjhbYmu6A8ssuYITDDe3wb8BPUN1L8vtbxrWrv5RKNXz6xWzUqDjoZ_C9cXJ8HfiHOJ7ujqxQuHY_1b4_P4Vrxwhjt2HSPyBQUV9QgKzLzck4sRetxBsvPp_EDihKAji8W7bOZgeOgahbMaQC3PV1MGnTdkxNJH4Q/s1600/joke_29.png" /><br><div style="font-size: large;">After four years of drought in the small north-east village, the priest gathered everyone for a pilgrimage up to the mountain; there they would do a collective prayer, asking for the rain to fall again. In the group, the priest noticed a boy wearing a raincoat. “Are you crazy?” he asked the boy. “It hasn’t rained in this region for five years and the heat from hiking up the mountain will kill you.” The boy replied: “I have a cold, priest If we are going to ask God for rain, can you imagine our return from the mountain? It will be a spate and I need to be prepared.” At this moment, they heard a great roar coming from the sky and the first drops began to fall. It sufficed the faith of a boy in a miracle that even the most prepared ones didn’t believe in.</div>

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