The other day, I was walking to the studio when a bright-eyed young man began to desperately pursue me.
No, he wasn't an admirer. And he wasn't a homeless guy begging for a handout. He was a salesman. His product? Salvation.
I'd seen him around the area a few times, his yellow robe flashing brightly as he bobbed and weaved through the crowds. My opinion of proselytizers generally wanes between extreme annoyance and sympathy -- it can't be an easy gig, trying to capture the affections of bewildered tourists and annoyed locals. So I stopped and smiled.
He eagerly shoved a small gold card into my hand. A good luck talisman was etched across the front. I bowed my head, clasping my hands to my heart in thanks. Our transaction settled, I continued on my way.
I'd gone just a few steps before I realized he was still following me. My smile slightly more strained, I turned and bowed my thanks once more.
He gestured to a book, wanting me to sign something. My patience thus exhausted, I shook my head and quickened my pace.
He did not give up the ghost. When I stopped again, he scowled at me, pointing to the amulet.
A bit deflated, I returned his charm. He left without another glance.
I guess I shouldn't have expected something for nothing, even if the something - in this case, God's good graces - wasn't exactly the giver's to dole out in the first place.
Give & Take
