A dance for the Lord (5/7)

By Drum Digital
05 June 2015

Even a street kid can fall in love . . .

The purse was a thick, knitted bag fixed to the end of a wooden paddle and I was known to lean far along a pew with the paddle in my outstretched arm to remind someone of their Christian duty. If they’d be looking away, I’d wiggle the purse under their noses and give their arms a friendly little nudge.

Come on, Brother. You don’t fool me. Look at that designer shirt. And what about that thick gold chain around your neck and the huge platinum-and-black watch on your wrist? Would you like to tell the Lord how you got those?

I tell you not a word of lie when I say, many a time have I seen a R200 note shoved into the purse, though the face might have been glum and the eyes angry. That didn’t faze me in the least. The Father always commended me on the size of my collection.

Today I had the incentive of holding the purse out to the father of my girl. I didn’t think he’d recognise me in my church garb. Being the devout believer, he dutifully fumbled a smaller note into the bag without looking at my face.

While he was fumbling, I was eyeing my girl.

To be continued...

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