I SAW HER IN CHURCH WEARING A MINI-SKIRT, CROP TOP, HIGH HEELS, AND TATOOS COVERING HER WHOLE BODY. TO MANY, SHE WAS EVERYTHING WRONG
Quiet ObservationsAs the choir’s final hymn faded, I noticed her hands—tattooed wrists folded in prayer, fingertips almost brushing the smooth wood of the pew. While some peers snickered under their breaths, whispering judgments about her flesh laid bare beneath sheer fabric, she sat motionless, eyes closed, lips moving in silent communion. Where others saw defiance, ...

















