I had a boisterous tail wind riding home yesterday- a three gear wind. I raced down the bike track to the wet lands, passing a Muslim mum. She collects her son from school. I meet them some days if I am coming home early, or he has after school sport. She wears the hijab, and a full robe.

She was running, and I thought she must be late meeting him. "Salaam," I cried as I raced past. "Salaam!" came the echo, full of life. I felt a surprised joy from the simplicity of our exchange; two believers affirming the Divine.

When I reached home I checked the time, even though I say I don't race the clock anymore. I realized she was not late for school. She was jogging.

It's good to be alive!


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