There is a gilded statue of Joan of Arc that my son sees everyday from his school bus.
He asks, and I tell him the truth.
She was a religious fanatic who was burned alive.
He wants to know more, and I struggle with how to expand. We haven’t had the religion conversation yet. I decide it can wait until he learns there isn’t an actual Santa Claus that comes down the chimney, an Easter Bunny that hides plastic eggs, or a tooth fairy that buys his teeth while he sleeps. So I distract with another topic.