I am not a bad person.
At least I really try not to be.
I recycle. I pay taxes. I don’t park in disabled parking spaces.
I do not belittle the beliefs of others.
I try to be kind and loving to all that I meet.
I resist urges to tell people what I think they need to hear, or tell them how horrible I think they have been.
Yet all of this has apparently gone unnoticed by ‘him’ upstairs.
It isn’t often I am approached by total strangers. When I do I try to be courteous even if I am in a rush and they are looking for donations.
On this occasion I was not in a rush. I was idly strolling through the street on my way to my favorite deli to pick up some scrummy bread and cheese for that days lunch. Suddenly a man appears.
“Do you believe?” he announces in more of a statement than a question
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