Last night in New York City, as I was waiting with a friend at the corner of 79th Street and 2nd Avenue to cross the street, we overheard a loud telephone conversation with the person standing in front of us. One could say that it was a crude and vulgar discussion both ways.
As the light changed and we started to dart across the street, the person on the phone zipped ahead of us and kept walking across 79th Street to where we lost him in the crowd.
Walking to our restaurant, my dinner companion said, “Something tells me that he hasn’t seen the inside of a church in a long time. Maybe we should pray that he finds a church home soon.”
I looked at her and smiled.