Mostly, I was anxious because I was ten years old and I had never met someone who had “lost their mind.” Would I be safe? Would he kill us right there in Gap Diner? Would he, at random points in the conversation, fall to the floor, seize up, or foam at the mouth? I had no idea what to expect, and I would rather have stayed at home, but I didn’t have school that day and for some reason my mom was busy doing something else so I went with my dad (he was the assistant pastor at the church we attended) to have lunch with one of the parishioners who had recently been released from a mental hospital.
Today, I’m posting over at A Deeper Story. You can read the rest HERE.