on Sundays in the West Indies i like to be in the country... watching all the people walking so diligently to church.. sometimes walking miles.. carrying children.. ascending steep inclines.. some rocky and slippery.... small churches hidden in the landscape.. larger ones out by the street.. people in their Sunday best .. some carrying bibles... lots of shine and crisp pressed shirts...
I'd listen for the singing, because those are the churches i wanted to go visit.. watch the community come gather. people greeting each other. children wiggling in their chairs. some eyes finding mine, wondering how i came to be there..
most times i was invited in.. or i'd come in.. sometimes i'd bring a tambourine bc many had them and id dance and swat at it the way they were.. mostly leaving it for some elderly woman whom i could see eyeing it with desire.. in reality i was buying it for someone who didn't have one..
those days are precious to me.. i never tired of it.. and i look forward to it more in the future... i just love gatherings of people.... in communities.. tight communities.. where people know their neighbors.. the shop keepers... something in todays world is less present
