flat-foot traveller as part of the gang

Went out to breakfast yesterday with a long-established group who got together through serious mental illness within their families. And they welcomed me when I first arrived in the autumn. Apart from a weekly meet, they have a breakfast club twice a month. For this they meet in a kitchen-chair style cafe in town – with a budget all-day breakfast on offer. As soon as I enter, I feel at home. It is an hour, where I suddenly take de Caussade’s advice of the sacrament of the moment. This is. Good.

While I had scrambled egg and sausage with toast, I chatted with those squuezed round the small tables near where I was sitting. About this and that.

A kind of reassurance that we are. Getting on. Alright.

 

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~ by Barbara S on February 26, 2017.

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