Vol IV: #32 He’s On A Mission
There was a season in which the prayer chapel was empty most mornings. Six months ago, that changed when my thin friend showed up, and he never misses a day. At first I didn’t like having my unofficial alone time ruined by a visitor. But I knew he had every right to the chapel, and I had no right to harbor any ill will toward the man.
He’s quiet and keeps to himself, though I’ve seen him wave to Mr Yellow Car(another new visitor) who prays in the opposite corner. Each morning he sits two chairs to my right facing the back garden. He’s skinny. And his hair is buzzed to the nub, which leaves a dark sort of halo covering his head. His clothes hang on him like towels on a line, and he removes his blue sandals before he settling in his chair. Once seated, the young Chinese man crosses one leg over the other and places his hands in lap. And then, he prays, earnestly. Sometimes his head is down, eyes closed as he prays. And at other times, his head is tossed back, hands splayed right and left as if waiting for the rain.
My praying companion wears the same clothes almost everyday and I assume he can’t work, at least not legally. And I wonder if he lives in his tiny Nissan hatchback, a increasingly common occurrence in a state with few homes and too many people. Perhaps I’m wrong, and he simply prefers to wears the same shirt and pants seven days in a row. Whatever his financial state, I don’t think he’s living the high life. This man came to Redding and spends his waking hours in the prayer chapel because he’s on a mission.
