at the potter's house

Seagrove, NC

We arrived at a church Wednesday night just as people were going into it, so we joined them. After worship, since it was already dark, I asked the pastor if we could sleep outside the church. He seemed reluctant. "There's been some problems and the police come around here..." When I asked if he thought we should just move on down the road, though, he grew more uncomfortable, then consulted with one of the deacons and offered us the man's shed for the night.

But then David, who had overheard our conversation, stepped in. "I'll take care of them tonight," he said. We stopped by his house where his wife made us sandwiches, then he took us looking for a motel. As it turned out, he drove us all the way to Seagrove (where we were headed to visit my friend Tom, though unfortunately I didn't have his address with me at that moment). We didn't find a motel there, but we did find a quiet church and he left us with a gift. I found Tom's number in the phone book the next morning.

Tom is a potter who I first visited on a walk five years ago. It's good to see him and his son Slate again. And in the last few years Tom has become quite a chef; the pizza last night was incredible. (He gave me some tips that I can try with mine.) How quickly we went from nowhere to sleep to gourmet pizza with friends.