Sharing the Blessings Sharing the Blessings W e leave our friends of Forest Row at 8.45 in the morning in search of the footpath out of town. Crowborough - 8 miles or so across country. A pproaching the town, we pause to adjust our robes and take out our almsbowls. The main street is busy - mostly cars and lorries, belching out fumes.
Shop keepers stand and stare from their windows.
We find a spot with space for people to pass by, away from motorists. Standing there, with eyes down, bowls open and lidless held lightly in our hands, we feel very small and vulnerable. I brace myself for contact with strangers - ready or not, it's bound to come soon. A n elderly lady makes a bee line straight for us, her purse in one hand and some coins partly concealed in the other. She said, with a look of disbelief, surprise and confusion.