On my rainy walk, I passed a family that seemed to be dressed up—at least for rainy Saturday afternoon in Portland standards—with umbrellas, walking together. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten the suspicion that some church in my neighborhood is still functioning in some way that people are leaving their houses for.
A few wet blocks later, I passed a church that’s definitely closed. “God heals,” says its signboard, “But wash your hands.” Three people were standing in the parking lot holding a banner.
I smiled at them.
Then I cried, just a little.