Saturday morning, it was the Jewish Sabbath and I, needing a widget, drove to the Big Box Store. I passed people walking to their synagogues … women in full-length skirts, men in felt hats. I saw a young man, perhaps half my age, in a dark suit, a prayer shawl under his jacket. I felt happy … something there is about witnessing people living their faith. I envied the young man’s studied, quiet demeanor and I reflexively lifted my hand from atop the steering wheel in a silent, private greeting. I thought he would not notice but he smiled in reply.