A night in the Holy Sepulchre - Afterthoughts
I was sitting waiting for my train at Waterloo Station in London feeling sorry for myself. ‘What oh What’ I thought, would all that I experienced in the Holy Sepulchre mean to the vast majority of outsiders, who knew little if anything of the Christian faith? I was watching the commuters, the tourists, the retail therapists and the other miscellaneous men and women rushing past me. They were of all ages, of all colours, and of all different shapes and sizes, but they all seemed to have one thing in common; they all seemed to be busy, in a rush, all totally preoccupied. read on....
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