of josh and sandra fame.

At church, people introduce themselves to us in pairs. "Good morning! I'm Jennie, and this is my husband James," says the lady who has heard that Josh volunteered to be an usher. Another day, Jack says hello, and then later also his wife, who - get this - is named Diane. Waiting in line to sign up to make jambalaya for Shrove Tuesday, we meet Anne and Andy, who sign up for the same dish. Some later Sunday, Josh nudges me and asks if that's Andy, of Anne and Andy fame. I am glad that we do not have cutesy matchy names, though I suppose you don't pick who you fall in love with, and a Josh by any other name would still make me laugh at his jokes.

I realize that I would not be able to pick Anne out of a line-up of similiarly-aged brunettes, unless she was standing next to Andy. I wish we had talked to them a minute more, since they went out of their way to introduce themselves to another nice young couple about their age (that's us).

I think that is the way they all see us, a nice young couple who just started coming to church. They say peace be with you (and also with you), this is my wife, have you been coming here long? They ask if we have just moved to the area, and we say we're just getting back into the church habit. They invite us to whatever activities they're involved in and hope to see us again. Maybe they wouldn't recognize me at the Food Lion unless I was with a curly-mopped man in a bowtie, and maybe they wouldn't be able to remember Josh's name if they weren't given the hint that it goes with mine. They have no prior interaction with either of us alone, and they don't yet know us well enough to think of either of us a distinct person. And that's fine, it's kinda sweet. We're a unit. I'm Sandra, of Josh and Sandra fame.

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