"Praying" at Noon Hour

Going to Catholic School had some advantages.  We had an hour lunch, so after we ate we went out to play on the playground.  I was overweight so I never got picked to play in any reindeer games. I would go up to the playground supervisor nun and ask if would be OK if I went into church to pray.  Of course I always got permission.  I would trot over to the side door of the church and go in.  I would stop in front of the altar to pray for about, hmmm, two seconds, and then I would go to the huge front entrance doors, peek out to see if anyone was around, and if not, I would make my escape.  I would run down the steps, cross the street and run down a that street about half a block where I thought no one would be able to see me. I would then slow to a walk (I was overweight, remember?) and walk down to the corner, turn left and walk down to the next corner where there was a little neighborhood grocery that sold penny candy.  I usually bought about a dimes worth, and then ate it while I slowly walked back to the church.  I would again make sure no one was looking, and run across the street and back into church, where I would walk up to the altar, make the sign of the cross, or something, and back out the side door to return to the playground. It worked out pretty well until one day I took too long and the bell ending our noon hour had already rung. The teacher was wondering where I was and one of the kids told her I was probably in church.  The principal came looking for me.  Luckily I had just reentered the church at the entrance and was in the narthex, where she found me peacefully looking at holy cards left over from funerals.  I was shooed back to school.  I didn't go to the grocery store after that.  It was too close of a call for a chicken.