I admit it. I followed her. It started with a simple gaze out my car window as I drove to share Christ with my homeless friends. In the shade of a tree, she sat, half-hidden by low-hanging branches, tucked away like a secret.
Rolling my window down, I called out, “Would you like a Gatorade?”
She waved me off, grabbed her backpack, rose, and walked the other way. Not exactly the response I hoped for, but okay, we don’t know each other.
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