(Photo: The only tourist moment I had, by the subway entrance next to Macy’s.)
Somewhere off of 13th St. and 5th Ave., as my mom and I were walking and chatting, a man stopped in front of me, looked me dead in the eyes and said,
“Jesus loves you.”
I sidestepped him, and gave a moment’s thought before turning my head and replying.
My mom didn’t hear what either of us said, but saw the man stop and heard me say something back.
She was protective and asked briskly, “What did that man say to you?” Her step fell beside mine in a natural movement as we continued our walk down the street.
“Jesus loves you.”
“Oh.” My mom relaxed. “What did you say to him?”
“Thank you.”
Simply, it seemed like the most appropriate response.
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