The Sunday before we moved to Sodom, I went with my daughter to church, a sweet little Methodist church in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Except to mark an occasional death I have not been much of a churchgoer lately, but on this Sabbath my girl Whitney was to sing solo, and I felt drawn to a front pew, aisle. I am happy to report she did herself and her old man proud, and I carried the memory of her lovely performance with me to the city (she stayed on to see to her schooling) as well as something the preacher said....
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