I’m still dealing with my gimpy-foot thing. Actually, I’ve not been dealing with it. Not very well, anyway. I’ve got another week or so of being laid-up, and today I decided to force myself to be still and actually recuperate. I have a few things I plan to do while being still, and I will enjoy myself, dammit!
But that’s not what I want to tell you about today. I want to share something that happened a few days ago, when I was out in the world and not at home with my foot propped up. I was limping out of an estate sale (where I scored a massive, unabridged dictionary) when the lady running the show reached out and touched my hand. She began to pray for me and my injured foot – aloud – and I was quite touched. She didn’t ask, I didn’t ask, and it seemed to be truly spontaneous and genuine. Her prayer was brief, and then it was finished. I thanked her, and she went back to eating her lunch. It was simple. And it only lasted a few seconds.
Crossing paths with that lady of faith was a bright spot in my day. I can’t claim to always have a lot in common with the truly faithful, but I do admire them. And I won’t lie here, that lady’s faith and her prayer affected me positively. In fact, here I am a few days later and I’m still feeling the glow.
Good people. They make the world go round.