I often stop for a coffee in our local shopping centre after work as a way of re-charging my batteries before tackling the shopping and other chores. Being a 'regular' obviously the staff have got to know me a little.
The majority of the staff are Portuguese and are delightful; always ready to help carry someone's tray if they're elderly or disabled or are struggling with babies and toddlers. They always have a kind word and a smile for the disadvantaged folk one often finds sipping a cup of tea in these sorts of places; those from the local care-in-the-community homes etc. and . . . poor old dears like me, of course!
Coming straight from work, I'm usually dressed in what I think of as typical office wear; smart-ish (I hope) work dress or skirt and blouse and sensible court shoes.
Paying for my coffee we exchanged a few words, as usual. I was asked if I worked in the church. Some of the staff know that I do. I replied that I did. 'Are you a nun?' came the response. Resisting the urge to laugh out loud, I replied that no, I was not a nun but worked in the office.
Of course if nuns dressed like this . . .
or this . . .
or, again like this . . .
then we'd all know where we were, wouldn't we? Just a thought . . .
1 comment:
I love being places like Rome or WYD and seeing young and pretty girls clearly identified as nuns, so full of joy &, PROUD to be brides of Christ, it's so refreshing!
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