He walked out of the hotel as I was passing by on the sidewalk. He was in his 60s, a short man dressed for business. I noticed the sweater, which he was wearing under his sport coat, and was a bit jealous. Winter has come finally, and it’s been cold this week. I’ve not quite adjusted to this fact.
I asked if I could pray for him, and he paused and then said, “Sure.” Then he started to move on, but I stopped him again. I wanted to pray for him now. “Right here?” he asked, puzzled by my persistence. No, he shook his head and continued moving. “You can pray for me later,” he said.
So as I walked back through Old Town, I did pray for him. But I was shivering. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wear a sweater.
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