It's a plain hotel. It's maybe getting a little tired. Only half of the Days Inn sign out front lights up. I stopped there because it was on my way home. I'll probably stop at a lot of the businesses on my way home during the next eight months. It's been too cold to walk around outside downtown.
There didn't seem to be much life at the hotel, and for a moment I wondered if it was even open. But when I pulled through little carport, I could see a handful of cars in the parking lot, most of them pickups. As I was getting out of my car, I thought I saw someone move past the window in the lobby. The clerk, probably.
She was standing behind the counter when I walked in. No one else was in sight. She was about 20 years old. I'm not sure what her nationality was. I asked if she was in charge for the night, and she said she was, asking if she could help me. She wasn't unfriendly. Just not outgoing.
I told her I wanted to pray for her. At this, she stiffened a little. "I guess you can," she said reluctantly. But when I asked her if I could pray for her right there, she balked. "I'm fine," she said. Not exactly definitive. "Does that mean you don't want me to pray for you?" I asked. "No, I'm fine," she said again.
It was a good enough answer for me. So I thanked her and left. I did pray for her anyway as I was driving home.
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