She entered the sanctuary, her presence announced by the jingle bells on her walker. She sat in her usual spot, a few rows back on the left side. During community prayer time she acknowledged that things have been a true struggle lately. Getting around is increasingly difficult, and she really, really hates this fact. And, characteristically, she also acknowledged her immense gratitude; for God, for her partner, for her walker.
He came in partway through the service, as is his custom. He sat near the back, surrounded by several bags of empties, paper, and found items that he planned to give to people who might need them. One such item was a windshield ice scraper that was destined for Erinn’s van. Before it was delivered, he used it as an air guitar, strumming and cruising around the room while we sang our final song.
He has a quiet, steady presence. He is always dressed impeccably, and enjoys reading the Psalm or Gospel passage for the week. He doesn’t say very much, but his faithful attendance says a lot. He usually leaves quite promptly after the service, but this day he waited in the cold for over half an hour with another community member who was expecting a ride home in an accessible bus.
In the last couple of years, Ross Gay has become a favourite writer/poet of mine. He is someone who has developed a keen radar for delight, and encourages attention to the many “tendernesses” that surround us on a daily basis. This past Sunday was utterly jam-packed with tendernesses, and I am so grateful.
May you keep your eyes peeled for instances of tenderness and delight this week. ❤
joannacatherinemoon 
Beautiful!