A Quiet

She was young, so much so, I wondered if she could be my Granddaughter’s age.

Still her words of proclaimed “wisdom” splashed across the room and descended on my lunch in the quiet of the mostly unoccupied small tearoom,

I tried not to listen but without choosing to abandon my own lunch (an eagerly anticipated weekly bacon cheese burger) that became quite impossible

It was the oft repeated word that the speaker used that caught my attention

“Pure” seemed to be her mantra spoken with emphasis and frequency throughout the monologue

And her second oft repeated word was “Inclusive.”

My burger was getting cold, and yet I had difficulty enjoying its normal succulence. The sounds of a strident sermon obviously were dominating the normally tranquil tearoom atmosphere.

In a way I envied the speaker’s confidence, but the more emphatic she became, the more I debated the wisdom of her beliefs,

It was a new religion the young speaker endorsed with such enthusiasm, and initially I was impressed with her faith,

However, as the tirade continued it became an indictment of all other beliefs

Soon my initial reaction to her sermon began to change and ebb into an equally volatile negativity, and I felt regret. And also sadness because the young advocate felt it imperative to denounce all other pilgrims who walk a different path to our Maker,

I decided to abandon the long awaited cheeseburger (with bacon) and flee back into my familiar and less complicated world away from the quiet tearoom;

Upon return to my quiet abode, I hoped to embrace my own beliefs with additional petitions for all who seek their God on different roads of life.