One day last week, while on my way home from
a volunteer stint at the YMCA National Long Course
Swimming Championships, I looked up from my latte to see
this group of folk, resting on benches outside
the federal court building.
As it turned out they were Jehovah's Witnesses,
resting from their shift standing on the nearby sidewalks,
looking for converts. They stand quietly looking
for people who may wish to find some
peace in their tortured and/or lost daily existences.
They've been at it for months and months now,
but I've never seen them in conversation
with people other than themselves.
The woman in the striped hat had a bruised
and swollen ankle. She had been hit by
a motorscooter, making standing on the hot
sidewalks even more of an ordeal.
While I wasn't able to bring myself to convert,
I was able to give her some hints that might
provide her some relief for her aching feet.
No miracles here,
just ice, soapy water and a foot brush.