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| Image credit: Photo by Alex E. Proimos Licensed under Creative Commons |
On Thanksgiving morning, I needed to run out to the grocery store for a few last minute items, and if the parking lot of my local store was any indication, I was far from the only one. As I weaved my way slowly through the traffic at the front of the store looking for an available space, I noticed a man standing in front of the store holding a hand-lettered cardboard sign bearing the words, "Please help." I thought about the family I had at home, the friends we would be getting together with later that day and the feast of delicious food awaiting us all, and I decided I'd pick up dinner for the man from the deli counter in the store...
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That's lovely, Mary. I'm glad you were able to bless someone-it comes back to you!
MPJ,
My biological father is a homeless vet. When I see homeless people I can't help but think of him. When I think of him I do hope he is getting some compassion from people. I may not have the desire or ability to seek him out, find him and invite him into my life as he fled fast and far long ago, but still, is he fed? Is he dry? Is he warm? Sometimes I wonder. Is he provided for, on some levels, as I am though not at all in the ways I would have predicted? I sure hope so. C