But next time I glance across the aisle, she has turned her face to the window. Her head is bowed. Her hands are unobtrusively outstretched in supplication in a way that very few would notice. She is praying! The serenity I had first noticed in her face—a serenity more powerful than the heat of a toddler’s fury—now spreads across the aisle and enfolds me too.
“When you pray, go to a quiet place and close the door.”
She has “closed her door” and is quite oblivious to those around her, to the cabin crew jostling by with their drinks trolleys and the passengers shuffling up and down the aisle, exercising their extremities, pacing out the impatient hours that still separate us from our destination. She is perfectly still. Her child sleeps. She is with God.
I glance at the moving map on the screen in front of me and notice that at this very time we are flying right over Baghdad and Basra, narrowly bypassing Fallujah. My neighbor shares the faith of many of those who have been embroiled in combat down there. She lives it in her own way, a way of love more powerful than force.
– excerpt from “The look of love” by Margaret Silf.
The article appeared in the February 2012 edition of ‘Together’.
‘Together’ is a magazine published by St. Antony’s friary, Banglore. The editor, Fr. Joyprakash is also a good friend of mine, and (although it has been a long time now) I sometimes draw for some of the articles.
The look of love by junykwilfred is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at https://spifff.wordpress.com/2013/02/14/358/ .