My hubby and I have just returned from a conference he attended at the Chateau Lake Louise. Yesterday morning while Lee was at a session, I decided to take a solitary walk along the lake. As I passed a few Chinese tourists taking pictures, I heard the sound of some sort of flute, so I back tracked to where a man sat on a frosty bench playing a recorder. Giving him a thumbs up sign as I meandered past, I moved a little further, taking pictures and listening to see if I could identify what he was playing.
After a few moments, I picked up on the chorus of "What a Friend We Have in Jesus," and a few moments later, a few Alleluias from a song I can't quite name reached my ears. My eyes misted as I looked at the gorgeous scene in front of me. I couldn't help but think how perfect an Alleluia was for the location, though I suspected no one present but the musician and I would recognise it for what it was. When I turned back toward him, he was gone, only an unfrosty patch marking where he had been sitting.
Twenty minutes later on my walk to the end of the lake, I recognised the man on his way back, walking with an almost military precision. I said, "You're the man who was playing the recorder. It sounded lovely, and I recognised an Alleluia or two."
He smiled and said, "I can't think of a better place to offer praise."
Neither can I.
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