It is very common to see folks wearing their crucifixes, crosses, WWJD jewelry, and t-shirts that proclaim everything from "God Loves You" to lightning-streaked slogans of aggressive grace. For the most part, I believe that these individuals go about their business without any second glances at their own apparel. It is easy in this environment to think that people are pretty tolerant about religious expression.

Several months ago my husband bought me a beautiful pentacle, adorned with moon crescents and a rose quartz crystal. I thought it was beautiful, and took my time finding just the right beads and such to make a necklace with it. For the first time in my life, I have a pentacle necklace.

Several people I know wear their pentacles. Some are small, some are large. Some are kept hidden, tucked underneath the collar. Others are worn out and proud. After a long time thinking through all the scenarios I could imagine, I decided I would wear my pentacle out -- just to see what would happen. I still remember well the religious persecution I endured at one particular job, but that's another story for another time. Suffice to say I am trying to take things one step at a time.

My experiments with wearing the pentacle would last a few hours one day, a few more hours another day. The first several times I did not see any reaction to the necklace, and I became more comfortable being in public with it. When meeting with pagan friendly folks, I often received compliments on it.

Then one day I was wearing it as I did errands, paying bills and such. Parched and needing a rest stop to regroup, I pulled in at the local Arby's. I stood in front of the empty counter for a moment, trying to decide what to order. A young gal came from the back and took her position behind the counter. I noticed her looking very intently at my necklace. I saw her eyes get round and she seemed to be having an anxiety attack.

As I made up my mind and started to order, the girl quickly left her station and returned to the back. Moments later the manager came forward, and asked to take my order. With a smile, I told him my choice, paid the amount due, and waited. After delivering the drink, he offered to bring my fries out to a table.

Once established in a corner booth where I could watch everything going on, I did my best to look occupied while keeping a steady eye on the employees. One brave guy came out to bus tables, trying to look at my pentacle from beneath his eyelashes. I thought I'd make it easy for him, and sat up straight.

After he returned to the back, two more people emerged with broom and mop. They took the longest time to sweep and mop under a few select tables. It was difficult to keep from laughing as they rubbernecked the pentacle and collided broom and mop together from not watching what they were doing.

Because of this, my imagination began filling in the blanks. I could imagine the young girl going into the back (where I suppose the kitchen is) and saying something about not being able to take my order. I wondered if she thought I was a satanist, or if she knew the necklace was a symbol of a pagan path. I had the distinct feeling that the folks there were cautious, even respectful, perhaps bordering on fear.

I reflected on my spiritual ancestors, the nature people who at one time must have treated Christians with the same cautiousness, and in time, fear. The main emotion I felt from this whole experience was sadness, though. How tragic that we haven't come further as a society, as human beings, than we still treat each other carefully, with fear.

I threw away my garbage and neatly stacked my tray before leaving the restaurant. On my way out, I smiled and waved to the sweeper and mopper, and also to the manager who still stood at the counter. In my mind I tried to engrave the experience deep, as a reminder to me to be an agent of change so that perhaps one day pagans won't have to hide, and Christians won't have to fear.

I hear that it's already that way in some places. I hope to see the day where that is true of the South as well.