I rounded the corner, peering out the car window. A flicker of movement caught my eye—a figure darting up from the thicket with a quick, deliberate motion, only to duck back down. My heart skipped. Who was that? I was looking for my homeless friends, hoping to bring them a little warmth—hand warmers, blankets, scripture cards—just enough to remind them that someone cares. My eyes scanned the trails near the camps, watching for signs of life.
Up ahead, a man on a bicycle approached, his hoodie pulled tight, a dark mask covering all but his eyes. His steady pedaling brought him closer until he was right beside my car. He tilted his head, and though I couldn’t see his mouth, his eyes smiled.
I rolled down the window and stopped. “Hey there! I’ve got some scripture cards for you,” I called, holding them out.
