Getting on the train to go home this evening, I stood just inside the doors and watched them close. As the train began to move away from the stop a short woman, in what can only be described as Eastern European peasant garb, burst into motion, springing from her seat. Brushing me aside she faced the closed doors, fervently making the sign of the cross over and over again, muttering prayers as she bowed and prostrated herself on floor.
Between prayers she spun in place three times round and then would drop to the floor and pray. This continued until the next stop was announced on the loudspeaker, whereupon she sat down again, rosary pressed firmly to her lips, eyes tightly closed. After three stops with repeat performances, I had to marvel to a fellow traveler that she hadn’t fallen over.
Beer can be great for equalibrium, he said, and lack of medication great for freeing the impulses, and then he stepped aside to let her pray to the door.