A Brush With History

As is my custom, I stopped at Captain D’s for dinner on my way to church last evening. I often do this on Wednesday evenings … not every week but at least once a month. I ordered my Senior Citizen’s meal and found a table. At the table next to me was an older (judging by her white hair) woman.

I’m not sure quite how we got into a conversation but the next thing I knew, we were chatting like old friends. She told me her father had been a Methodist minister. In fact, he had been a circuit rider in the 1940s. Oh, my! I’d never met anyone who had been a circuit rider. She told me how she was one of eight children and they sang and helped their father in his ministry. Her mother was quite skilled in the music area so the churches her father pastored — sometimes as many as five at one time during his circuit riding days — got “two for the price of one.”

I felt like history had brushed my shoulder.

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