We watched as the door slowly opened.
One Tuesday afternoon while we ladies played Bridge, a police officer stepped inside and politely asked, “Do any of you ladies own the red car that is parked on the street?”
One of the ladies at my table glanced up and responded, “Yes, officer, it’s mine. Is there a problem?”
“Well, ma’am, you can’t park on the street in front of the church,” he replied. “It could be a traffic hazard.”
“Please, would you mind moving it for me?” she asked, offering him her car keys. “I am winning this hand and would rather not get up right now.”
The officer took the keys and left to move her car. The rest of us politely smiled at each other.
“This must be Mayberry!” I chuckled to myself, remembering “The Andy Griffith Show.” Only in a small town would someone feel comfortable enough to park their car on the street and then give their keys to the local authorities to move it.
Living in the country between two small towns is an adventure. Several times each year, I plan special excursions to the “big city” of Athens, forty-five minutes away.
Sadly, we lost one of our Bridge players this past summer. She was stung by a wasp while working in her yard. Unfortunately, our two ambulances were at other dispatched calls and could not reach her in time.
Playing Bridge or enjoying any pastime with others provides an opportunity to fellowship and celebrate life together. Group activities are like bridges that connect us to each other and God.
I will cherish every moment spent with friends and family today. I hope you will, too.
(Photo courtesy of pixabay.)
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