I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice--not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother\'s death, but because he is the reason I believe in God
I am a Christian because of Owen Meany.
T.
One of the boys hits a foul ball that kills the other boy\'s mother.
In the summer of 1953, two eleven-year-old boys--best friends--are playing in a Little League baseball game in Gravesend, New Hampshire.
I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice--not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother\'s death, but because he is the reason I believe in God
I am a Christian because of Owen Meany
