The other day, I was standing at my author booth when a small moment unfolded that felt ordinary at first—until it wasn’t. A woman I’ve known for years stopped to chat. We met a long time ago, back when she lived in the area, and then life did what it does: she moved away, seasons changed, and our paths didn’t cross for a while. Seeing her again felt like opening a familiar book to a page you loved and realizing you still remember the story.
We caught up on the usual things—where we’ve been, how fast time flies, who’s doing what these days. At one point, she said something with a shake of her head. “You can spot a person in trouble a mile away. It’s so sad.”
I understood what she meant. She wasn’t trying to be ugly. Her words came from concern, not criticism. Still, I felt that little nudge in my spirit—the quiet reminder that “trouble or distress or loneliness” doesn’t always wear the outfit we expect.
