Saturday, August 07, 2010

The Sign on My Door


I live very near a church... underneath it, in fact.

You see, my grandparents were pastors. My grandfather a pastor and carpenter. He built his own church and downstairs at the back end he built in a workshop. This workshop then became an office and eventually an odd, yet comfy, little apartment.

My grandfather passed away when I was a child but my grandmother kept the church and only retired some years ago. She now rents the church to a pastor and his parishioners...

who keep knocking on my door trying to convert me.

After three conversations at the door (with me in my PJ's) as well as several lovely pamphlets left for me to read, I decided to take a stand.