ConversationTopic
I came to see my boss' new office one day and noticed a tea cup and a saucer of an enormous size. I mean gigantic: the cup was bigger than a football! I began staring at the unusual set on a shelf and couldn't help asking,
"What do you use this cup for? You can't possibly serve tea in it, can you?"
"It serves as a conversation topic." I felt manipulated.
Today I was asked by two different people about my cross. It's an Orthodox cross that I wore in Russia and still do.
"You have such a beautiful cross!" - a young father with a little girl commented before Sunday service at the Old Mission church in Fairway, Kansas.
"You have such a beautiful cross! Is it Orthodox?' - an older lady commented at Flamenco Mio event in Leawood, later in the evening.
The man was a Methodist, and a woman happened to be a Serbian Orthodox, but both recognized the cross.
I sat and smiled, watching Flamenco dancers' expressive silent hands. I got lost in my memories of Russia and of my grandfather. What is the difference between the huge tea cup in my boss' office and my cross?
The difference is that I wear my cross as a silent symbol of my faith, not a conversation topic. Everybody who sees my cross knows that I am a Christian. A woman of faith. Only a few recognize my connection to my grandfather, who was an Orthodox believer, and I appreciate it even more.
Yes, I am a Methodist minister, but my roots are going deep into my Orthodox heritage.
No, I don't wear my cross to start a conversation about faith, it is usually not even seen, The cross is a part of me and I wear it for myself. But if people notice it accidentally, the cross tells them without any explanations who I am.
"What do you use this cup for? You can't possibly serve tea in it, can you?"
"It serves as a conversation topic." I felt manipulated.
Today I was asked by two different people about my cross. It's an Orthodox cross that I wore in Russia and still do.
"You have such a beautiful cross!" - a young father with a little girl commented before Sunday service at the Old Mission church in Fairway, Kansas.
"You have such a beautiful cross! Is it Orthodox?' - an older lady commented at Flamenco Mio event in Leawood, later in the evening.
The man was a Methodist, and a woman happened to be a Serbian Orthodox, but both recognized the cross.
I sat and smiled, watching Flamenco dancers' expressive silent hands. I got lost in my memories of Russia and of my grandfather. What is the difference between the huge tea cup in my boss' office and my cross?
The difference is that I wear my cross as a silent symbol of my faith, not a conversation topic. Everybody who sees my cross knows that I am a Christian. A woman of faith. Only a few recognize my connection to my grandfather, who was an Orthodox believer, and I appreciate it even more.
Yes, I am a Methodist minister, but my roots are going deep into my Orthodox heritage.
No, I don't wear my cross to start a conversation about faith, it is usually not even seen, The cross is a part of me and I wear it for myself. But if people notice it accidentally, the cross tells them without any explanations who I am.
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