A woman whose life reached a dead end went to do her shopping. She usually goes when she knows it will be quiet, like Sundays when the town goes to church. Then all the burnt bridges, the broken hearts, the failed friendships and the judgmental bystanders will be occupied for at least an hour or so. In a small town like this she has no other option. In the city it’s so easy to start over, so easy to pick yourself up again. But out here where everyone’s life is everyone’s business, a broken story never seems to heal.
All she can do is hide.
The shop was dead quiet.
Except for a stranger she did not bother to notice.
“Can you please show me where I can find mineral water? I’ve been wandering up and down, this shop is really weird.” the stranger shook her out of her solitude and safety.
“Sorry, but I don’t work here, go and ask in front.”
“If you knew who I am, you would be the asking water from me.”
“Listen pal, you don’t even have a basket. Whatever your intentions are with me, I am done with the men in this town. You’re wasting your time.”
“I can see you’re hurt, your eyes give you away. Let’s have coffee, you’ll talk, I’ll listen.”
She shared her story, where she wanted to hold back, a graceful question here and a word of wisdom there seem to break all the walls between her and the stranger. In the end it took two cuppachinos and a large piece of chocolate cake for him to change her life.
Meanwhile the sermon reached its end; no one knew God had just visited their town. While Sunday slowly drifts into darkness, on Monday morning His footprints will still be visible. The woman who spoke to no one, who lived in shame, who broke almost every heart in town will face her shadows, ask for forgiveness and start to walk the road of healing and reconciliation.
The town won’t know what hit them...