As any preacher will testify, you don`t need a church to do a little witnessing. Even a King Drive bus rolling north in the morning rush hour will do.
”Praise the Lord,” the portly woman extolled immediately as she paid her fare at 16th Street and Michigan Avenue. ”Be readdd-dy. . . to take Him into your hearts.”
The riders gave stoic notice as the woman continued to sermonize forcefully while working her way along the crowded aisle.
”Don`t say, `I`m not ready for the Lord yet.` You may wait too long,”
she exhorted. ”All through my 20s, I said I was not ready. And when He came into my heart, I was not ready then. But now I`m in my 30s, and I have the most beautiful feeling,” she exclaimed to her audience. Most of them didn`t move or even alter their expressions.
Undaunted, with a beatific smile, the preacher continued to expatiate on her theme for almost five more minutes. Then she stopped: ”Whew, I`ve worked up a sweat. I need a napkin. Has anyone got a napkin?”
There was silence. Then, far in the back, a couple of women began to fumble in their purses. But a man sitting closer, who had been impassive during the sermon, quickly extracted a clump of tissue from his pocket and extended it, saying, ”Pass this up to the sister.”
”Praise the Lord,” she acknowledged, wiping her neck and brow, as all around her suddenly began to smile.
