In the summer, neighborhood children come to duck in the fountain and laugh delightedly among the splashes. Usually they have nowhere else to cool off on hot days. The bees visit the flowerbeds for the makings of honey. People sit on the benches or stroll by the reflecting pool.
The plaza by The Mother Church in Boston is a pleasant place to bring your lunch in the middle of a busy city. And many people do—blue-collar, white-collar, no collar, sometimes no shirt. In fact they come all during the day, and at night, people of all ages and races. If not walking, they pedal, jog, skate, or skip through.
These are the bright hues among a pageant of humanity that trails on, some people just passing, some lingering, some visiting. But there are the sadder tones, too— the lost and lonely, the despondent and desperate. Often they come searching and asking, perhaps not always knowing why. But after all, it is a Church Center—more than a resting place. Perhaps they've come for the nectar of hope and love. Often they find it, and life is suddenly sweeter.
