Earlier this year, my family and I, fully masked, went on a rare outing, before strict lockdown, briefly visiting the home of a couple who are our friends, for a late lunch.
We met a single stranger, a thick-set pastor in a gleaming white shirt, who asked the few of us to join hands in an impromptu circle, that I thought was perhaps symbolic of how interconnected our existence is. Given the hardships of the pandemic and the perils of previous weeks, the enthusiastic evangelical leader wanted to say thanks for life and offer a short prayer.
Later, in a quick conversation, I heard of his small rural farm and his confident caring for fellow flocks, of varied animals, and committed congregants. In the months that followed, as cases picked up, and the Government enforced tighter measures, any thought of another non-essential trip ceased.