An Act of Faith

AN ACT OF FAITH: POSITIVELY WESTCOTT STREET

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After waiting 38 minutes about two weeks ago to speak to someone at the IRS, on my third attempt I reached a Ms. Anderson, who actually seemed to listen to me and promised to send me the one page document I needed. I believed her and realized how much of our daily life is made up of such small acts of faith.

I was reminded of those thoughts when, on Sept. 15, I attended the Westcott Street Fair. After saying hello to my friend Roseanne Olszewski, at the Metamorphosis booth across from the Petit Library, I turned onto Westcott Street and saw it transformed.

There were tables squeezed together up and down the street as far as I could see, crowds sauntering in the middle of the road, food and drink in hand. I heard country fiddlers and rock musicians, saw jewelry creators, henna tattoos, neighborhood associations, clothing of many styles and origins, purple striped handbags from Ghana, ceramic bowls in celadon green and brown, political parties of various shades, churches, a freethinkers booth, and food, lots and lots of food.

I struck up a conversation with someone on line at Picasso’s table, who advised me on their pastries (it was his second trip),  bought a brioche with dark chocolate that was delicious, chatted with people hosting several of the booths, almost bought a holder for my cell phone  and enjoyed myself immensely.

And I thought about the mammoth effort involved in setting up the fair, including organizers, volunteers, vendors and visitors. And how much faith was involved … faith that the organizers knew what they were doing in organizing the day, that the volunteers would show up and do their work, that vendors would bring their wares and non-profits their information, that the food, music and all the rest would be worth showing up for and that people would come.

And all these acts of faith by so many people not just for one day, but year after year, is what builds a community.