COMMUNITY SERVICE

As soon as my husband and I moved across the street from the Iglesia Pentecostal, I knew I wanted to help the little Latin church. There was just so much about it to like. A church is part of what makes a place a community, and that’s important. Plus, this church occupied the oldest storefront in our corner of Williamsburg, and the aging churchgoers in their faded down jackets sipping coffee and speaking Spanish felt really authentic. That meant a lot after the bad experiences I’d had with fake upscale stuff. I won’t get too into it, but not far from our previous apartment was a holistic veterinary clinic. They called themselves “alternative,” but ask them if they could save a sack of oysters you bought from a raw bar and they sounded an awful lot like the vets at “regular” clinics. At any rate, I didn’t know exactly how I’d make my presence known to the churchgoers. But I was certain that somehow I would make an impact on their simple, poetic, passionate lives of quiet, soulful endurance

Read the rest: http://www.newyorker.com/humor/2010/12/06/101206sh_shouts_silverman