Maundy Thursday service in the Refinery Church in the old Monarch Mill. Planting feet on polished boards once rough enough to catch the husks of grains ground on site to be shipped away via train tracks that no longer exist. Steadying myself on the rough brick walls after losing my balance because tears sting my eyes as we raise our voices to sing Amazing Grace. Communion found not in the bread and cup, but in this shared belief in the grace found in our collective. Where else but a ministerial association holy week service would I sing in harmony with my accountant, my friend’s brother, my former student, and my minister’s mother-in-law?