Are you a believer?” the man asked. My husband nodded. “And you too?” I also nodded. The man was busily folding individual sized pizza boxes for the next order, his white apron matching his neatly cropped salt-and-pepper hair. “I used to go to church, but I don’t anymore. Not for 20, 22 years now. I’m a believer too.”
Minutes earlier, my husband and I had been walking through the Armenian section of town looking for a curtain shop. We were excitedly fixing up our first home together and wanted…Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ann-en/~3/FJT6-RNMYfo/