Author:  Olecia Wedderburn- Christie


He walks in the room and something about him causes us to stop and wonder,

He compels our attention and his aura tells us that he is confident but not conceited.

He glides through the crowd thinking himself unnoticed yet it’s clear that he is victim

to many a piercing eye that look on in curiosity and admiration. His masculinity is well

defined not only by the soft rigidity of his features but by the oversized Bible that

protrudes from his left grasp. 


He carries it almost as if it holds for him some deep, unknown treasure, personal only

to him and the subject of its contents. He is a mystery yet we all feel as if we know him.

Even me- the obvious visitor. He reaches out to a little girl who slipped as she tried

ascending a staircase which defied the capacity of her age and she feels safe in his grasp

as he guides her back to the welcoming arms of the woman who

must be her mother. 


He passes by the other section of the room still oversized book…

bible in hand and it is clear that he has walked this path before.

He stops to speak with a crowd of excited teenagers (as if they speak the same language)

and from my  vantage point I read the mouthing of the words “You guys rock!”

How is it possible that he can be friend to all yet so subtle, almost unnoticed?

I can’t understand it and I feel too much an outsider to interject, to ask who is this man?

He is clearly respected not only by the stifling seniority in the room but even these young

ones defined by their frivolity and innocence.


They see him as a man… a real man! Why is it that everyone knows him except me?

It is clear that he is the dichotomy of thought and action, both reflecting something

so pure yet so powerful. He stops again to encourage the poor widow whose trembling is

evident to even those who are not looking. I hear him say this time,

“You are blessed beyond your years” and a smile and tear collide upon her face.

She looks at him and as he walks away, she clutches something in her hand which

I am sure wasn’t there before and her smile lingers forcing one of my own.

Again he stops this time to elbow someone who is clearly a friend, he says something

and peals of laughter fill the room and then deflates in an almost magically automated fashion.


Who is he?

It is then that I hear the moderator echo the words through the microphone

” lets stand as we welcome our friend and father of this flock—Pastor”



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