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Almost persuaded: A way that leads to life

On a summer evening in our town, Carnival came to Main Street. Biker convoys parked their gleaming Harleys outside the Internet café and flocks of teens from the suburbs rivaled the Harleys with their personal adornments of metal trimmings, tattooed limbs and orange and purple–streaked hair. To us locals all this hubbub was normal; we see it every year at Carnival time. That’s why, when my husband and I caught sight of two pretty but plain young women walking past the motorcycles in white bonnets, pastel blue dresses and black stockings, our heads turned.