He’s there the same time each day – standing near a busy intersection in our small town. I don’t know his name. I don’t know his history. I only know what I see. A man with many years behind him, a life lived, reading aloud from the Bible.
Reading is actually an understatement though. He is more, announcing it to us. To make sure we hear it. We may not always understand it, but we hear it.
I rolled down our windows as we kept going on our way. Listening to him for the length of the red light. Nia noted how he was reading without looking at the words. She told me, “He must go to church a lot, huh?” I replied, “Or he just reads from the Bible a lot.” “But he’s not reading it, mommy. He knows it.”
And he wants us to know it too.
Sharing the Word
Are You Zhazha? 
Have something to share?