“Daddy, do we control God?”
William frowned slightly as he looked at his young son. He wasn’t really angry, more confused by the question. He leant back in his chair so he could regard the child. “No, why would you say such a thing? Nobody controls God, we will just follow his will where ever it may take us.”
George shuffled his feet. “Granddad was telling me about the divine right of kings. He said a king or queen was chosen by God and nobody could take that away.”
“He was telling you about history, George. We are not an absolute monarchy in Britain and we allow the people to control themselves. That is what the government is. We are merely figureheads and the people can revoke that at any time. My mother taught me that, which is why I work so I am more like one of the people.”
“Oh. So, why does our coat of arms say that God is our right?”
William looked up at the coat of arms on the wall. “I think you need to pay more attention to those classes in Latin. It says, God and our right.” He ruffled his son’s hair, grinning.
Written for Sunday photo fiction