In a quiet corner of the Reading Terminal Market, away from the crowded
main corridors, an Amish girl takes her lunch break from selling pies and jams.
A small sandwich is on the table in front of her. Her head is
bowed, her hands in her lap. I wonder - briefly, stupidly - how it is
that this Amish girl could be texting on a smartphone. Then I realize she
is saying a brief prayer before she takes her meal. I take my coffee -
just milk, no sugar, no grace - and move along.
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