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Walking to Church in a Small Town

I enjoy walking to church.

When the weather is nice, like it is today, forty degrees outside is not a trial at all. As I started my walk this morning, the air was chill but utterly calm. The sun had risen just far enough to brush the tops of trees with gold, and even blades of grass were casting long shadows. The stillness made it possible for me to listen to birdsong, and I was even pleasantly surprised by seeing a turkey vulture rise up from a tree as I walked by.

A beautiful morning to walk, think, and pray.

However, as I have mentioned before, we live in a small town.

And we live just far enough from church to make walking to church seem like a trial-- to some people, not to us. And because we live in a small town, the likelihood of someone we know driving by is very high. Very, very high. And because it is Sunday morning and this is a 'nice' town, stopping, rolling down the window, and offering a ride to the perceived weary walkers is the norm.

Another norm is showing the utmost politeness and reserve, so quite often my husband and I can brush off the polite reserved offer of a ride with a wave and a smile.

But this morning, a dear lady who does not possess the normal Dutch reserve pulled up next to me and said, "Hillary, do you want a ride to church?"

"No thank you, I enjoy the walk." I give a big smile and wave.

This woman paused, smiled, and answered decidedly, "Hillary, your hair is wet. Get in the car!"

So, because I am the polite reserved person mentioned above, I complied.

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