…but it’s not entirely obvious. Seeing it is often an accident.
Greeted at the top of the stairs on your way into church, by an outstretched hand with the Sunday Program, you are looking into the dull, rusted out eyes of a man who collects a monthly disability cheque, and follows instructions from a woman with a shaved head and silver green tattoos on her swollen calves.
A chat during coffee time can extend long after everyone is back in their seats. Not all his words escape the overgrown mustache and beard, so it takes concentration to catch that his first wife died slowly, while he was the pastor of a church in the deep south. That might explain the ragged King James Bible and the frayed, slightly too tight, dark blue suit. To your horror what follows is a blow by blow accounting of the slow death of each of his three exotic birds left outside, because the landlord refused to let them come into the house this winter.
Rocking back and forth, his woman adds a running commentary to the stories, “It’s not his fault… He’s a good man… He always looks out for me… He has had those birds for three years… He loves those birds.” He looks at her, touching the edge of her sleeve. A smile plays with the corners of his mouth as he goes on to explain that he is taller than his brother, but that his brother’s partner just left him.
Then suddenly he realizes that the service has ended while we were chatting. He stands, twists and pulls on the bell rope coming through the ceiling above their bench. It takes a few pulls till the tolling reaches us from the bell tower. He pulls again and again. She holds his Bible and looks up into his face till the bell’s last ring, long after he has stopped pulling.
She holds his Bible and looks up into his face till the bell’s last ring, long after he has stopped pulling.
And then, he’s helping her with her coat, and she smiles and says clearly, “I won’t be here next week – I want you to know why I won’t be here. I’m having that surgery on my legs. But he will be. He wants to help with greeting people and he has to ring the bell.” He sticks out his hand with a smile that fills his entire face. And then, arm in arm, they slowly make their way down the 7 steps to the front sidewalk. They wait for the light to change and begin the 45 min. walk home.
And you gather your things and find your way home.
Noticing 