She was standing next to a gray car, watching the dollars add up as she filled up with gas. She had red hair and was about 50 years old. I stepped around the gas pump toward her. We were in Newton at the time, on our way to Dodge City. The woman looked at me.
"Can I pray for you?" I asked. She paused and then nodded. I could. So I prayed there for her as we stood there in the cold, cars sitting behind us waiting their turns. After I'd prayed that she would have a blessed Christmas, she looked at me.
"Thank you," she said. "I needed that this year." I asked her why. Her story for the year was sad. Her mother, her best friend and her nephew all died this year. She didn't say much more than that, and I could tell she really didn't want to. So I told her that I would keep praying for her. She thanked me.
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