I lifted the latch on the church door, then pushed open the imposing piece of timber
Come in, shouted the voice, but close the door behind you, keep the heat in
I did enter, and I did smell the soup, which the two workmen, sat, at a cloth covered card-table by the altar, were pouring into bowls, from their flasks
I thought to take a photograph, but chose against that, largely for privacy's sake
I thought to talk to them, but decided not to, for they were already in full flow
Instead I determined, to try and remember what a good thing this was, which I had been so so fortunate to witness
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