Because I saw Don standing by the AFC house.
This was my challenge awhile ago, to learn the names of the men and women who sit on plastic molded lawn chairs on the front porch of the Victorian house around the corner. Because when the Pharisee asks, "Who is my neighbor?" it smacks of being nice only to those who are like me.
I felt a little scared at first. I started with saying "Hi" and smiling when I saw Don on the sidewalk. Sometimes he shuffled with his head down as if counting the cracks in the sidewalk. Other times he was dressed in a heavy coat despite the warmer weather, carrying a stack of folded clothes.
One day I said, "Hi, my name is Susan - what's yours?"
We never had a long conversation but I learned that he walks to the Clark station every morning for a large bottle of Pepsi. His thick winter hat was knitted by his sister-in-law, Toni. And he really enjoyed the big canister of assorted popcorn that I gave him for Christmas.
One day, he was gone.
And the next day. And the next.
As days turned into weeks, then months, I wondered and prayed. "Dear God, please keep Don safe. Please help him wherever he is."
Bruce stopped the car. I got out and ran down the block.
"Don, it's Susan! I'm so glad you're back!"
Ah, so good to shake the hand of my friend and see his smile again.
He had been in the hospital, and when I told him I'd prayed for him, he said he thought that probably helped.
As I turned to leave, Richard shouted from the park across the street, "HI BARBARA!"
But that's a story for another day.
Thanks, God, for bringing Don back. Let me bring Your light to him.