The Gospel Church

Sunday. Church day. I have not been taken that serious for a long time. But we got an insider tip on a Gospel Church. And that sounded interesting.

So we get to Tenderloin. A part of Frisco where tourists are adviced not to go to. And it really looked peacefull on this sunny Sunday morning. The homeless were enjoying that first ray of sunshine. And people wished each other a happy Sunday.

And it was a happy Sunday. Singing. Dancing. Huging the brothers and sisters. Singing again. And dancing again.

There was a difference with the church I have known. This was a celebration. A joy. A place people want to go to. The place was full. And that was probably the main difference.

Well, there's another one. The brothers and sisters. They know each others' name. In my church - back in Europe - we were only twenty. And not one ever asked my name.