A Cross. A Book. And a Trip to Avinger

As the day began, I noticed a man sitting quietly behind a table beneath his canopy. The table was filled with handcarved wooden crosses. He was reading, his demeanor peaceful yet focused. I walked over and smiled.

“These are beautiful,” I said, picking one up. “Thank you,” he replied with a shy smile. “I make them by hand. It keeps me busy, and it means something, you know?”

I nodded. “It does. The cross is everything.” We chatted briefly, and I encouraged him, sensing his heart behind the work. Then, I moved on, meeting other vendors and greeting people before the day began as I readied to sell books in my booth in Avinger, Texas.