A Life Interrupted Nothing Is As It Appears

And so I strummed and I sang and I strummed and I sang.  An hour went by. People came and people went but almost nobody paid me any mind and showed me no appreciation.  I began to wonder if this being thy brother’s keeper thing was going to pan out. My stomach growled. I looked in my case.  I had a couple dollars. I would need that for gas for the car to run tonight for heat while I slept. Business was slow.  So I switched it up and dove into a rendition of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot, which had proven to be a crowd pleaser in the past. Sure enough a preacher, a leader and representative of the community, walked up wearing a collar, a solemn smile on his pious face, and towing a small child by the hand, the good book and some pamphlets in his other hand pressed against his hip. He stood impassively for a moment or two looking on and listening while the child peered up with a look of curiosity from beside him. Mid song he let go the child, extended his hand, and introduced himself saying rather stiffly, “I am Father Tom.” read more