Hello,
Why do we call it Good Friday? I might
have known or been told this at one time, but have no memory of it.
This morning Leroy and I walked to
church, planning to arrive at a little after 8:00 just after they opened the doors.
We brought our masks with us, but saw no other people on the trip.
Astonished that the price of gas was $1.41
per gallon! Obviously we are not getting out often.
At the church, I opened the door with
my bare hands, and held it for Leroy to walk through. He then put hand sanitizer
on my hands. We put on our masks. We talked though the door of the office to
learn where the book, which we were returning, should be placed. We then moved
into the sanctuary which is open. Almost as soon as I was in there I started to
cry, but did not really know why. Considering our vagabond life I am not so
attached to a church building. Tissues and hand sanitizer were supplied at the
door. After sitting and thinking I believe that I was crying for all of the
losses in life, not just to me and my routine, but deaths and other more
serious changes to lives around the world. Grief.
On the walk home we wore our masks. Between
my cataracts and the fogging of my glasses, I decided that I was safer with the
mask pulled down. Falling did not seem like a good thing. Mask off the nose certainly
brought the walk surface into focus. As it turned out we did not meet a person,
but saw a number of cars going by.
Interesting that in all of our
previous lives we never thought of the risk of going to church as many people
have done over the centuries and throughout the world. Also interesting that
their risks involved people who wanted to do harm to them and now it is a virus
that attacks randomly or at least it appears to be random.
Paula
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