A Walking Stick for Learning

Nick (not his real name) avoided me, for the most part, except to intimidate me by spewing ugly words. And even though he offered horrible phrases, I’ve longed he might trust in Christ. I recently stopped at the parking lot where a church group served lunch to the homeless, and I saw Nick sitting on the curb eating from a styrofoam plate. And I made my way near after getting out of the car.

He spoke, “Hi Pam,” a short greeting, like a soothing balm to my heart.

I sat down a few feet away, unsure if my old lady self was stuck on the ground forever, but he was talking to me, so I had to listen.