We were all in prayer heads bowed in the sanctuary as she began to speak to proclaim our petitions speak for all of us in pastoral prayer speaking of the holiday the meaning behind the pausing the remembering of Labor Day She spoke of our concerns, our celebrations, sharing with each other, with God But then she paused, murmuring reminders of the larger world the unfinished business of laborers tired, laborers working through Labor Day of the forgotten and used minimum wage The sky opened, as if in retort giving an Amen from the heavens rapping suddenly, intently, insistently on the domed roof echoing through the wood high above us Preach sister! Preach of the oppressed the migrants and the unwanted jobs the unskilled, and our desires for things make us remember that laborers still labor, this Labor Day that we in this land of excess have forgotten the mills, but they are there they are still in use for our desires, our wantings We are kindred with them too even when we forget see only the day off reminded by her words, the staccato of the rain raising its voice while ours were still heads bowed listening to her prayer and the Amen and Amen again echoing in the rain