When Isabel was in kindergarten, they had a quiet, sweet friend who wore a head scarf. Her mother and sister wore them too. I remember I was always impressed that she kept it in place and clean despite the rigors of childhood. One day as we were driving through the neighborhood streets, we saw this beautiful family walking on the sidewalk, so we pulled over to say hello. As we slowed down, the mother gathered her two children close, turned her back and braced herself—for what, I can only imagine. She was visibly shaken but relieved when we rolled down the window and spoke a greeting.
^^^ That is what religious persecution is like: Living in fear in your own neighborhood that your four and five year old children will once again be assaulted verbally or even attacked because the clothes you wear mark you as different.
Facing the consequences of your unpopular opinions is not persecution. That’s just being a member of civil society.