By Dayna Patterson
The porte-a-porte
is not as cruel tonight.
Snow falls soft
on a row of pastel houses,
where curves in the moulding,
louvered shutters,
and tidy lines of lights
make them look
like dollhouses.
Bibles in bags
slung over our shoulders,
we follow the unshoveled path
door to door to door.
Pink cloud cover
locks in heat
and hides an abyss
of black sky.
Under layers,
we are almost warm.
Door slams are muted
by snowfall masked as manna.
Tonight, nothing these dolls do
can hurt us.
I served in Newfoundland and Nova Scotia, 20ish years ago. This made me smile, especially the almost warm part. Brought back some memories. Thank you.
I live on the other side of Ottawa in Orleans. Half of my MTC district also came to the Montreal mission (I went to France). So this resonates on multiple levels.