The 300 pound homeless man with a long white beard reeked of diabetes as he lumbered out of the fast food joint.
His legs were like small white tree trunks and he limped along burdened by the two huge camouflage backpacks.
He had a narrow red walking stick that didn’t support him well enough.
I would have liked to help him carry his load, but for how long? He was going to have to pick it up eventually.
Unable to think of a way to help this man, I said a prayer and watched him look around deciding which way he wanted to go.
I hope he makes good choices.