Ever since I won a draw for a place on a school trip to the Marian Shrine of Knock my lucky number is 7. I am 10 years old. I fervently believe, God is a vivid presence in my life. At school I listen in awe as we're told about the apparition at Knock. The coach journey to the shrine is spent entranced, imagining what we will see and experience there. We must have prayed, we must have gone to mass but I never did see that hoped for miracle and that evening on the way home I felt a huge sense of disappointment. One thing in particular stood out – the holy water, which is possessed of magical powers – was dispensed via an ordinary tap supplied from the ordinary everyday council water main. I felt like I had just witnessed a wonderful magic illusion and then suffered the anticlimax of learning how it is actually done. Life was never the same.