It was after 10 p.m., after a day with all sorts of family, and I went out on my special mission. The grocery store was closed. The gas station was closed. The liquor store was closed. But I saw two guys walking down the street toward yet another gas station. Figuring they were as available as anybody, I pulled in ahead of them and walked up to them.
They were teenagers, headed for the convenience store, probably glad to be rid of school nights for a little while. One of them had a hint of pink hair. Their names were R.J. and Alex. When I asked to pray for them, one of them asked me why. So I told them, and this apparently satisfied them, because a second later I was praying for their safety and their warmth on a cold night.
Then they stuck out their hands, and we shook on it, chatted for a few seconds and parted. It was a pleasant meeting. There was no hint of suspicion on their part or even reluctance.
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