Today I sat on a bench at the bus stop with a man named Walter who was in shorts and slippers, in the rain coughing.
I asked Walter, "Are you sick?" He said, "Yes ma'am."
I said, "I'm going to pray Jesus heals you, okay?"
He said, "Yes ma'am."
"What's wrong with you?" I said. Walter just coughed.
I asked "Are you staying on the street?"
"That's good at least. If I had a car, I'd go home and get you a shoes, pants and something warm. It's too cold out here for you."
He said, "It is."
I felt helpless. It was gloomy and gray and cold. He was shivering. I had nothing in my bag for once. I was mad at myself for carrying clothes I went and bought myself but having nothing for this man. I usually have something in my bag to give someone I come across. I wouldn't give him money, for I was afraid would go to something that would kill him. At least he's staying indoors. At the Park Motel on Coldwater. I think he got real irritated when I asked him where he was staying. But I always talk to them from the heart of a child so I think it he was more embarrassed of himself than offended by me.
His feet were all dirty, and his clothes were dirty too. I wonder if tomorrow I can find him to bring him clothes. I'm still mad at myself for not giving him the piece of cake I bought for myself.