franceslievens | The Word of God

11:30 this morning. I'm feeding the baby when the doorbell rings. I walk to the intercom, because maybe it's the postman with a package and that's always fun. The woman I see on the little screen isn't the postman. "Yes?" I ask. Hearing I speak Dutch, she uses my mother tongue without blinking. "Excuse me for bothering you," she answers, "I'm a Jehovah's witness." Shit, I think, looking down at the baby still attached to my nipple, I should have left her standing there and not picked up the intercom. She's such a nice lady and very convinced of the righteousness of her words. So when she starts talking about doubt caused by wars and natural disasters, I mumble I'm not religious and frankly I'm feeding the baby. She asks whether she should leave a brochure. No, she doesn't have to. She better save them for another door where she can try to earn her heaven.