The Sunday I made a tasty mole for my husband’s birthday dinner. But I dropped the pot, it fell and broke into pieces. The mole spilled on the floor. I felt miserable and didn’t know what to do because our guests were about to arrive. I was smitten with remorse so I entrusted myself to Saint Paschal. After that I picked up the mole in another pot. By the miracle it looked like it didn’t fall on the ground. On the contrary, it was tastier, and nobody became ill after eating it. I give thanks.