Yesterday in church, I was seated about three rows behind an elderly man who is a mainstay in the congregation during morning worship.
He walks with a walker and has mobility issues; aides get him in and out of the sanctuary. Once he sits, he struggles to get back up again, and he can’t shift or move around very easily. I’ve always admired that in spite of this, I can set my clock by his regular attendance.
As the service got underway, he dropped a small clipboard over the arm of the pew. I saw it fall; I watched him look over at it, frustrated, and then slowly begin to maneuver his walker in an attempt to bring the clipboard a little closer so that he could pick it up. Assuming someone else in one of the rows directly behind him would help, I didn’t stir.
And then, as he…
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