Anyway, I attempted to talk her through her fears by hitting on a subject near and dear to her heart - Jesus. She inexplicably has taken a great liking to the Sunday school and the catechesis program at her Catholic preschool, and we were convinced for a while that she would grow up to be a nun. I say inexplicable because her father and I are not devout Catholics by any stretch.
Since we've been having some issues with G lately in terms of sleeping, anxiety, etc., I figured it was the appropriate time to bring out these big guns. But alas, my attempts to reassure her - telling her that angels were watching over her and Jesus was always there with her, too - did nothing to calm her fears. She told me, quite seriously, that she just didn't believe that Jesus was in her heart. I asked her to please explain, since she'd always been a big fan of J, and this new turn of events was a surprise to me.
She donned an air of extreme sincerity and seriousness, pulling me down close to her so I could hear her whispered voice. "I don't believe Jesus is in my heart, because I guess I must be Jewish."
Ha! News to me and I give her a 10 for creativity. My ultra Catholic mother-in-law must have been doing somersaults in her grave upon hearing that one. I, on the other hand, laughed hysterically, told her to go to sleep, and walked out the door where I found my husband in tears on the landing. L'Chaim!