Yesterday was our church's Harvest Festival. My husband wanted to attend and wore his lovely national costume. Everyone knows he's a Muslim, and they were thrilled to see him. They treated him like a celebrity. (as do all the folk in our village) I was reading the lesson, and the Rector was delighted to have Ibrahima carry the huge basket of fruit up to the altar during the service. He had a go at singing the hymns, and we both prayed fervently for world peace, tolerance and sharing good things. He's invited to the Harvest Supper next week, and the Men's Breakfast too. He tidies and weeds the churchyard with the other men on a regular basis. No-one has the least objection, and he's very happy to be there.