I drove by the man on the bench who appeared to be asleep, his head tucked beneath a jacket or maybe a thin blanket. His stillness pulled at my heart, but my hesitation tugged just as strongly. I whispered a quick prayer, “Lord, should I leave him a lunch sack?” And then drove on. I didn’t want to scare him. Or worse, seem intrusive.
So instead, I went on down the road and handed out brown-paper lunch sacks to other homeless friends, each one filled with sandwiches, chips, cookies, and scripture cards. But as the day wound down, I realized I had two bags left. Two small reminders that my job wasn’t quite finished.
Wouldn’t you know it, my route curved me right back to that same corner. There he was. Still asleep. Still alone. Still on that hard bench.
