Some time ago, while working in one of the East European countries, I found it necessary to remain overnight in a small country village. The next morning, before the town was fully awake, I roamed its winding streets to get a feel for the town. The morning was bitter cold—it must have been well below zero. Only a few people were venturing from their warm homes, but I knew from experience that there must be activity somewhere. Suddenly, down behind the town hall, I discovered the local outdoor market being set up for the day. Dozens of people were gathering to buy, sell, and exchange produce from their farms.
As I entered the little square, all their activity seemed to stop. I found I was an outsider, an intruder. I did not belong. Their faces were very grim, suspicious, and quite unfriendly. For a few moments I hesitated but moved in slowly, keeping my camera well hidden. As is so often the case, I refused to accept what seemed to be before me. As I walked around the market, I thought to myself, "Why, each of these people is 'the noblest work of God.'" Christian Science Hymnal, No. 51;
Eventually, their eyes began to soften. The atmosphere took on new warmth. Before long, I took out my camera and started to work, recording faces like I had never seen before.
