The other morning, I was sitting in The Boy’s truck (aptly - though with toungue-in-cheek - called The Great White Hope) when a woman walking along the sidewalk stopped, sidled over and tapped on my window. I was watching her, so she didn’t startle me. She was an older woman, maybe 70, dressed in a heavy parka, snow boots, fuzzy mittens, hat and a scarf wrapped in such a way as to hide most of her face. Her glasses were thick and behind them, I could see rheumy blue eyes.
I pressed the button on the arm rest that lowered the window about half way down.
“Hi,” she started.
“Hi,” she started again. “My name is Holly. What’s yours?”
“Well, Teri, it is very nice to meet you.”
Before I could return the greeting, she hurriedly asked: “If you died today, Teri, would your soul go to heaven?”
I paused. She smiled.
“I think so.”
“Because.” By being vague, I didn’t lie. Not really.
She wasn't really interested in my answer, as she continued: “So you’ve taken Our Lord Jesus Christ into your heart and are saved every day?”
I smiled, my finger hovering over the button that would raise the window and end the conversation.
“You are a child of God, may He bless and keep you.”
I pressed the button to raise the window and she walked away. I’m not sure what motivates people to initiate conversations like that. She is brave. I’ll give her that.