Day 228: Not saying no

He shook his head at my question, one of those head shakes of someone who is disappointed -- annoyed maybe is a better word. He didn't like the question. He was a guy in his 40s, a blue-collar man wearing new jeans and a sweatshirt. He had just bought two packs of cigarettes and was cleaning out the ash tray of his Chevy truck when I stopped him.

I stared at his mustache while I asked, the evening sun shining in my eyes. That's when he shook his head. He got real busy then. The put the ash tray back, and he said, "Well, you can pray for me. Go ahead." But he wasn't facing me.

"I would like to pray for you right now," I said. That head shake came back. But something else was there, too. I'm not sure what it was, but he didn't turn me down. He didn't want to tell me no. He didn't want to reject the offer. Would he accept it outright? No. But he wasn't going to say no. "You can do what ever you want," he said, pausing. "I could always use prayer. ... You can do whatever you want."

I took that as my invitation. So while he was pulling the gas handle out of his truck, I prayed for God's blessing on that man, in whatever situation God had placed him. The sun still was in my eyes when I thanked him. He thanked me back.

Day 227: Out of gas

Most of us have been there, either completely out of gas or in need of helping someone who is. The thought goes through your mind at about that time, "Why didn't you look at the gas gauge?" You've got to fill up. You can't go forever on 15 gallons. You just can't.

So the woman at the gas pump, I figure, was thinking these thoughts as she filled up the little red gas canister. Of course, I knew nothing of this when I stopped to ask her my question. She was in her 40s and had very large eyes. She smiled and thanked me, but said, "I can't right now. My son has just run out of gas on the highway, and the police are there with him now."

I just told her that I would pray for her son, and for her. She thanked me. Then she stepped into her car and drove off, headed for the highway. I prayed for protection for them both. May they be filled up.

Day 226: Lottery tickets

He was scratching them off, one by one. The lottery tickets curled out of his hand and he worked on them. The backdrop to this was an old pick-up truck and with a topper. The gas handle and fuel hose were extended in front of the man as he looked for his big winnings.

I got out of my car and got his attention, asking him my question. He just stared at me, clearly not sure what to say. He was probably in his 50s, with glasses and an uneven mustache. He wore a jacket that made me think he was in the auto industry somehow -- a mechanic of some kind. The name on it read, "Bill."

I let the silence go on for a moment, just waiting to see whether he would let me pray for him. Then I told him about my project. This sealed it for him. "No. Not right now," he said. Then he went back to scratching off his lottery tickets. "God bless you," I said. He didn't respond.

I left, not wanting to presume anything about his faith. But I prayed that when he put the lottery tickets aside, he would think for a moment about God. And then I also thought, for me, about my own winnings -- the ultimate winnings -- in life.

Day 225: An auctioneer

I didn't catch the name on his hat, but I did catch the word "auctioneer." And he had to look of one, standing next to a big white pick-up truck, wearing jeans and a mustache. He was a tall guy, probably in his 50s. I asked him my questions. "Sure!" he said. But he told me I couldn't pray for him right then. "I don't have time," he said. Then he got in his truck. I thanked him as he did so, and I left, praying for him on my way home.

Day 224: Brown van

It was an older, model GMC mini-van -- part of that first, boxy generation of mini-vans. The driver, himself, was an older man filling up with gas at the Valley Center Kwik Shop. I pulled in next to him and stopped him just as he was opening his door to leave.

He stopped and half-turned toward me, listening to my question. He just paused. I explained my project. And then he said yes. So I prayed for him there, asking God to bless him. The man said, "amen," and extended his hand to mine. "God bless you," I said. He returned those words.

Day 223: More Kleenex

So I went through three boxes of Kleenex in a week. The kids helped, but it was mostly me. Mary thinks that's disgusting. And it is, when you think about the kind of nostril activity that's required to do that. Volumes and volumes.

I stopped by Walmart this evening to grab another three boxes, and there was a guy there stocking the shelves with them. He was about 50 years old, tired looking, with speckled gray beard. He had one of those chains that connects his wallet to his jeans, and he had a pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket.

I just stepped over to him and asked him my question, explaining my project immediately. He looked at me for a moment, taking this in, and then he stooped down to pick some more boxes of tissue out of cardboard box on the the floor. Then he began putting those on the shelf. I knew he eventually would answer me, but he just wasn't sure what to say. Really, he just wanted me to go away.

But finally he did speak. And he spoke softly. "I can't right now. I'm working." I won't argue. But I told him I would pray for him as I walked away.

Day 222: Trash

He was wheeling a dolly that held a big plastic box filled with flattened out cardboard boxes. It was the middle of the day. This guy, probably 25 years old and wearing a ball cap, was working for one of the restaurants nearby in Old Town. I stopped him near the dumpster that always seems to be leaking fluids into the street.

He didn't seem too surprised by the question. He just paused, took it in and said, "Go ahead." So I did. It was a very quick prayer, under the warm sun. I thanked him then, and we went our separate ways.

Day 221: KU fan

He was an elderly guy, standing next to a four-door sedan, his wife in the passenger's seat and a handicap tag hanging from the rear-view mirror. He wore a bright blue KU Jayhawk hat. He also had a runny nose. It's interesting the things you remember.

I just asked him if I could pray for him. I could barely hear his response. Finally, I did. "That would be nice," he said. So I prayed for him. He thanked me.

Day 220: 'Pray for my freedom'

He was walking slowly along the sidewalk, not in a hurry and not motivated. He looked upset. Not that I really noticed at first. I was just getting ready to head home, after walking around Old Town looking for someone to pray for. And here he was, right in front of me. So I stopped him.

"Sir," I said. He kept walking a few steps, still very slowly, and seemed reluctant to turn around. But he finally did. I told him, "Sir, I'm working on a project. I was wondering if I could pray for you." After the usual stunned moment of comprehension, his face brightened. He was a short guy, maybe 50 years old, with flecks of gray in his goatee. He was wearing a ball cap, and his clothes showed some wear. But what really caught my attention were his words.

"Now that's just amazing," he said, shaking his head. "It's just amazing that you would ask me that. God sent you to me at this very moment. You're here to pray for my freedom." He wasn't joking. The look on his face, and really everything about him, said that. Then he held out his hands to me, they were up about chin level, and I took them and prayed for him. I prayed that God would bless this man -- his name was Robert -- and grant him the freedom that only God could give. Our God is a God of freedom.

I prompted Robert into telling me his story. He'd been stopped just a few minutes earlier by the the police. I'd seen them when I had set out on my walk -- two cop cars -- but they were a good two blocks away, and I didn't bother to see what they were up to. Robert told me, though. Someone had called in saying he was a panhandler. But that wasn't true, he claimed. He didn't panhandle.

To make matters worse, he was on parole. "Now I have to go before my PO tomorrow to explain this #@&%!" he said. "And I didn't do nothing wrong!" As he told me this story, I was watching his eyes. They slowly welled with tears and one finally dropped down his cheek and onto his shirt.

I offered him a couple of words of comfort, telling him that God would be with him, that God always is with us. "I know that. He's been working on me," Robert replied, "I know he surely has." He kept shaking his head. He was angry, but he was shocked that I was standing in front of him. It was an interesting conflict to watch.

Finally, I told him I would pray for him again. "You already have," Robert said. "You already have." As I walked back to my car, I thought about a man who was on parole, wanting his freedom.

Day 219: Unsupervised

There was a big white SUV standing alone at the gas pump. I figured the guy who owned it was inside the convenience store. He would be back soon. And I would pray for him. So I pulled in and began filling up with gas. And I waited. And waited.

And then I saw the little girl sitting in the front seat of that SUV. She was probably five or six years old, just looking at me with a big grin on her face. And then she crawled into the back seat, and I could see there was a much smaller kid sitting in a car seat and drinking a bottle. And there was at least one more kid in there, too. They were having fun. The little girl climbed into the front seat several times while I was standing there.

There was no parent in sight. Mary would have been appalled by all of this. I kind of thought it was amusing. And then the little girl got out of the car and walked into the convenience store. I watched all this out of the corner of my eye as I finished filling up with gas. Sure enough, out came the mom, carrying a bunch of stuff in her hands and scolding the little girl for getting out of the car. She didn't care what the reason was.

This wasn't the best situation for my project. She was going to think I was praying for her because she wasn't in full control of her kids. But why not? Who's ever in full control of their kids? So I asked her. She looked at me kind of funny and then said, hesitatingly, that I could pray for her. She wasn't sure about me, of course. And she stopped to put her stuff in her SUV first, and then she got the gas going into the tank.

And then she finally stopped to look at me again. I just prayed that God would bless her in whatever she was doing that evening. When I was done, there wasn't really a thank you. Just a funny look. I smiled and left.

Day 218: Luggage

He walked out of the parking garage, pulling one suitcase on wheels and with another on his shoulder. He was in front of me, headed for the Hotel at Old Town. And then he stopped to finish smoking his cigarette. So I stopped next to him, asking him my question.

He said I could pray for him. He was probably 50 years old, but I couldn't really peg him -- whether he was traveling on business or not. But I prayed for him. "I appreciate that," he said.

Day 217: Gotta get going

I didn't want to pray for her. I made one big circle around all the gas pumps at QuikTrip, which was busy tonight, looking for someone else to pray for. No one else was available. So I stopped across from her pump. There was nothing about her that I was afraid of. Really, I was just scared of scaring her. I kind of avoid praying for women in this project for two reasons: 1) I don't want to freak them out; 2) I kind of think guys need the prayers more, to be confronted straight-up with someone who wants to do something for them.

So I was hoping a guy would be there to pray for. But there wasn't. So I asked the woman standing next to her red car whether I could pray for her. My fears largely were realized. She was suspicious of me from the start. She appeared to be a college student, possibly on her way back to school for the week.

At first she said I could pray for her -- "If you want," she said, looking at me uncomfortably. "Well," I said, after I explained my project, "can I pray for you right now? It would just take 10 seconds." Nothin' doing. "I've really gotta get going," she said. And then she turned her back on me.

So I went on home, praying for her safety and that the Holy Spirit would continue working in her life.

Day 216: Kleenex

It was late. Mary and I had gone out on a date, to dinner and a movie, and we were heading to pick up the kids. But we had to buy -- I had to buy -- kleenexes to get through the rest of the weekend. I've got an awful head cold. So I ran into Target and grabbed three boxes of them and headed for the check-out line. The store was only going to be open a few more minutes. They'd already made the announcement over the intercom.

The clerk's name was Ronnie, a tall, skinny guy wearing a bright red shirt. I swiped my credit card and asked him my question. "Huh?" he said, puzzled. So I asked again: "Can I pray for you?" He said I could in a very hesitating way, and he handed me my receipt. So I prayed for him. He thanked me then with a little smile.

I have no idea what Ronnie thought about that. Maybe he just thought I was a weird religious guy. But as I walked back out to the parking lot, I thought about how I was one of his last customers for the night. So maybe he would think about the prayer, and about God, when he went home that night. And maybe the Holy Spirit would do its work.

Day 215: The shriner

His name was Dick. At least that's what his shirt said. It was a green shirt, and on one sleeve, it said "Midian." So I assumed he was part of the Midian Shrine in Wichita. (No, we wasn't wearing a weird hat, or driving a tiny motorcycle.)

But he seemed like a nice guy, immediately telling me that I could pray for him. He looked me right in the eye, and then asked the obvious question, "But why?" So I told him about my project. He seemed very pleased with that, and said that I absolutely could pray for him. So I did, asking God to bless him in whatever he was doing that night.

Day 214: Washing windows

He was another one of those really thorough window washers, meticulously scrubbing every piece of glass on his car. He was maybe 40 years old, looking at me through his big glasses. He sold Hustler lawn-mowers, or at least worked for the company, based on the logo on his shirt.

"If you want," he said when I asked him my question. He seemed pretty disinterested. He turned his attention to the gas pump. I just prayed. Who knows how it may affect him and his faith? After I finished, I thanked him. He just nodded.

Day 213: John 3:16

When I was driving to work today -- and it was a beautiful morning, one to put you in a great mood -- the folks on KLOVE were talking about how it is March 16. So it is 3/16 day. It's a day to remember John 3:16: "For God so loved the world ... "

The challenge, apparently, was to walk up to someone -- a total stranger -- and tell them that scripture. The hope is that God's Word will be heard, and that at least some people will come to a saving faith. Well. That was right up my alley. So I decided then that I would do it.

Then I sat in my office for about 12 straight hours, working. But I remembered the challenge when I left work, and I began working my way through Old Town, looking for the right opportunity. It was a fairly active night in Old Town. Wednesdays always are kind of a party atmosphere, relatively speaking.

The guy I ended up talking to was walking up to Rock Island, holding his jacket in his hand. He was about my age, with glasses and dressed fashionably.

I didn't know how else to do it, so I just asked him: "Do you know what John 3:16 says?" Obviously, this caught him flat-footed, and he just looked at me blankly. "It's in the Bible," I clarified. Well, he said, he's heard of it, "But I can't quote it to you."

So I explained 3/16 day to him and told him I wanted to tell him John 3:16. He told me I could. So there I was, in the middle of Wichita, standing on the street, quoting the Good News to a perfect stranger. It was great.

After it was done, we just kind of looked at each other. I really hadn't rehearsed in my head what to say next. Finally, I told him I hoped he was a believer. He replied that he was -- "I'm just not one to quote scripture," he said. But he thanked me then for telling it to him, and he shook my hand. I told him I would pray for him, and he thanked me for that, too.

He was very friendly, and very agreeable. Now did anything I said make a bit of difference? I trust that it did.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16

After seven months ...

I'm glad winter is over. Well, almost over. There's always a chance in March for a massive snowstorm to dump 10 inches of snow on Wichita. But, in all likelihood -- based on the forecast for the next week -- winter is pretty much over.

I'm glad about this not because I hate winter. It's great. Christmas is in the middle of winter. No, I'm glad because it's slightly more difficult to pray for someone when you're shivering. It's hard to walk down a city street, or several of them, when you can't feel your feet, and your nose is running uncontrollably, and at that point you don't even want to find someone to pray for because they'd think you were a bit odd -- standing there, red-nosed, stopping them from getting out of the cold so they can warm up their own feet and find their own Kleenex.

So it's staying lighter longer. And it was about 70 degrees today. And I walked all over Old Town tonight. And the people were out and ready to be prayed for. Welcome to spring.

Day 212: Trip to Oklahoma

He was driving a white Ford SUV. I'm not sure what model. He was about 25 or 30 years old, wearing a ball cap and a short beard. He instantly said I could pray for him. He stepped right over to me and bowed his head.

I prayed that God would bless him in whatever he was doing that evening. He looked up as we shook hands, thanking me. "I'm making a trip to Oklahoma City tonight," he said. "I appreciate that. I'm a religious person myself." I thanked him and told him about my project. Then we parted ways. He went south. I went north.

Day 211: Can't refuse

He was filling up a little red pickup truck that had a topper. He was wearing rubber boots. His overalls were tucked into them. I figured he was on his way fishing for the night. He was an older black man, his hair and beard sprinkled with gray. His face is ingrained in my mind.

He thought about it for a moment. I could tell he half-wanted to turn away. But I sought to convince him, telling him I like to pray for one person every day. He looked at me then. "Well, I suppose so. I can't refuse that." So I prayed for him, that God would bless him.

He shook my hand then. "God bless you, sir," he said.

Can't refuse. Those words stuck in my mind as I was driving home. Presented with Jesus, and an act of love -- strange though it may have seemed -- he couldn't refuse. Not that it had anything to do with me. Far from it. But I could tell that for him, the gospel mattered. The message mattered. Christ mattered. And when he knew this was Christ I was trying to proclaim, he couldn't refuse.

But so often I know that many other people -- many other Christians, myself included -- do refuse. Maybe not always. Maybe just in isolated moments. But we're presented God's love, his never-ending love, and we refuse. God never stops offering. His posture is always one of a loving father who wants his children to return to him, and we sometimes just won't do it. Maybe it's pride. Maybe we're angry at him. Maybe we project something onto him that is from our nature, not from his. Or maybe we want to let just a little of him in, but not a lot.

And so we refuse. But God keeps reaching out to us, lovingly and with a persistence that won't go away. All we have to do is say yes.

Day 210: The pilot

His jacket identified him as a "Hawker Beechcraft Executive Pilot." His cap said the same. He was filling up a little car with gas. I stuck my head around the gas pump -- I was driving Mary's mini-van -- and asked him my question. I'd read what was on his ballcap before I spoke to him, and was somewhat interested in what he did for a living.

He was much less interested in me. "I guess so," he said, taking one glance at me and then turning his eyes back to the gas pump. He was one of those guys who fills up his car without taking his hand off the gas nozzle. I'm not sure why people do that.

So he wasn't very interested, but he said I could pray for him. So I did, telling God that I didn't know this man but figured he was a pilot, and I asked God to bless him in his work. Then I thanked him. The pilot didn't really say anything.

Day 209: Certainly

He was at the gas station filling up a white Suburban. He was probably 60 years old with white hair and a white beard. I pulled in next to him, hopped out and asked him my question. "Certainly," he said. He kind of shrugged, like that was a pretty good idea. It wouldn't bother him a bit. So I prayed for him. Afterward, he thanked me, and I left. The whole exchange probably didn't last a minute. I prayed again for him as I was driving home, that he would be blessed.

Day 208: The mover

He was unpacking furniture outside the Innes Station apartment building in Old Town. The moving truck had turned the sidewalk into a canyon next to the building, and I stepped around the ramps that came out of the truck. Its side door stood wide open, showing a large wooden crate that was being emptied of someone's entire load of material possessions.

It was a beautiful morning, warm and sunny. I was in a great mood, even though I was walking back from the auto shop where I'd left my car for a brake job. I just stopped and asked the mover -- working for King's Moving & Storage -- if I could pray for him. He looked at me. "What?" So I asked again. He was about 50 years old, and short. He shook his head then. "No thanks. I already prayed this morning." That's fine, I wanted to tell him, but you can pray more than one time a day. But I didn't say that. I just told him that was good, and then I moved on, thanking him. As I was walking off, he said behind me, "But thanks anyway." And then he disappeared into the building, pushing a dolly.

Day 207: The non-religious doorman

He was wearing a bright red suit-coat and white gloves, standing alertly under the flashing neon lights of the Orpheum Theatre. It was a beautiful night, calm and not too cold. I came up behind him as he was watching the traffic pass on Broadway. There was an event at the Orpheum that night. I was attending it, and he was working it.

I stood next to him and asked him my question. He was an older gentleman, probably 70. He asked me why I would want to pray for him. I explained my project. "Well, you can," he said. "But I'm not a religious person." I told him that was OK, but I'd still like to pray for him. He consented. "Just don't touch me," he said. I chuckled. Now that would have been really weird if I'd touched him!

So I prayed to Jesus by name, just to make clear who we were talking about: "Dear Jesus, I don't know this guy at all, but he says he's not a religious man. I pray that you will be present with him and that you will make yourself known to him. Amen." That was it.

I asked him then if there was any way to convince him about God. The man proceeded then to tell me again that he was not religious. He doesn't bother other people, and other people don't bother him. We've got freedom of religion in this country. He started to turn away then, so I just told him I hoped he would find eternal life someday. "It might be out there," he said as he walked down the sidewalk.

Day 206: Happy Ash Wednesday

It was a chilly evening in Old Town, and I crossed his path as he was getting ready to cross First Street, just south of the Hotel at Old Town. He was a young guy with a short beard, and he looked at me kind of funny when I asked my question. "Yes ... Why?"

That's always a good question. So I told him about my project, about wanting to pray for one person every day. "I would appreciate that," he said then. So I prayed. He chuckled a little during my prayer as I told God that I didn't know this guy, but I prayed that God would be with him that night in whatever he was doing. The man thanked me when I was done. "Happy Ash Wednesday," he said.

Day 205: Church of Christ

He was a tall young guy, maybe 20 years old, standing next to a big blue pickup. It was a cold drizzly night, and he was wearing shorts. I stopped him after he filled up with gas to ask him my question. I had to really look up at him.

He barely hesitated in saying yes. So I prayed for him on the spot. He asked me then what church I went to. I told him, and I returned the question. His was the Church of Christ in Newton. We wished each other well and parted. There wasn't much to it, but it was an affirmation of our faith for both of us -- just confessing that we believe.

Day 204: A map

I was walking through Old Town and could see a guy standing at one of the large maps they have there, studying it closely. Actually, I couldn't see much of him. The map was between me and him, and all I could see were his feet. So I wondered what I would find when I came past him. Would I know him? Would he be 6-foot-5 and 300 pounds? Would he be one of the homeless guys who walks around Old Town?

He was none of those. I didn't know him. And he was about 5-foot-6, 35 years old and dressed like he'd been at work at a white-collar job. He wore a long black jacket and a beard that was sprinkled with gray. I asked him my question and he looked right at me. This wasn't anything he wanted any part of. He mumbled a "no" and then went back to studying the map. He didn't turn around again.

I just thanked him and kept walking, praying for him as I went. I probably should have offered him directions.

Day 203: Low-rider

He was a young guy, walking out to his truck from the convenience store, listening to his cell phone. I was done filling up my car, and so I waited until he reached his truck -- a black low-ride pickup -- so I could ask him my question. He had a beard, and was probably 25 years old.

As always, the question caught him by surprise. And he stammered out an, "I guess so." So I ducked and prayed for him, that God's blessing would follow him that night. He smiled and thanked me afterward. It was clear, though, that he still didn't know what to think of that prayer.

But as I drove home, I couldn't help but wonder, as I often do, about how God would use those words, along with other words that man may hear along the way. Maybe he'll end up a preacher. Maybe he'll be the next Billy Graham. It's a good thought to ponder. Only God knows the answer.

Day 202: Budweiser

He was a short guy driving a big truck. Eye-level for me was the Budweiser logo on his cap. I don't know if he worked for that company or was just a fan or just got a free hat. But he looked at me for a long time, saying nothing, after I asked him my question.

Eventually, I had to break the silence. "I just try to pray for one person every day," I said. "So I'd like to pray for you." He had smile, but it wasn't a warm one. "You can pray for me as much as you want," he said. And then he started to turn back toward his truck, which he was filling up with gas.

My next question stopped him. "Right now?" This brought another long pause. This guy just didn't know what to make of me. I do know he wanted me to go away. So after the silence continued for another moment, I was merciful. "You can say no," I said. He gladly accepted this, saying he didn't want a prayer. "I'm just fine. Really."

And so I thanked him and left. As I was driving out of the QuikTrip lot (I didn't need gas), I spontaneously felt the need to pray that God would wake him up.

Day 201: Propane

We had friends over for dinner tonight. We were excited about this. Earlier in the week, we were hoping for good weather -- at least good enough to grill. We want to usher in spring, by force if necessary. So we grilled. And it was windy. And cold. And five minutes after starting the grill, I went outside to find it still was cold. My propane tank was empty. Obviously, things weren't going as planned.

But we didn't let this bother us, and I hopped in the car and drove to Atwoods to replace my empty tank. A young woman unlocked the cage where propane tanks were kept. She looked tired, and a bit frazzled. I asked her about her day. Something with the inventory that day hadn't gone right. She handed me my new tank. I asked her my question.

There was the usual confused pause. She said that would be OK. But she was hesitant about it. She also said it would be OK to pray for her right then -- again very hesitantly. So I prayed. I prayed that God would bring calm into her life. She smiled afterward. "Thank you so much. I needed that," she said.

I was smiling when I went home. I got the grill going, and we had a good evening with our friends. It was hard to grill in the dark, though.

Day 200: A good word

I was walking down the street in Old Town. It was a beautiful evening. No need even for a jacket. The guy I found was leaning against a utility box, smoking a cigarette. He was 50-ish and friendly. I figured him for a maintenance guy at the hotel there.

"Well, sure!" he said when I asked my question. No hesitation. Go right ahead. So I prayed for him. He thanked me afterward. "I could use a good word," he said. I agreed that we all could.

165 more days to go!

Day 199: A white Toyota

That's what he was standing next to when I pulled into the gas station looking for someone to pray for. I stopped and stepped around the gas pump. He was a soft-spoken guy, and he said it would be nice if I prayed for him. "Right now?" I asked. He paused. "Whatever you like," he said.
So I prayed for him, and he thanked me.

Day 198: A clear head

She was standing in that little walkway between the Hotel at Old Town and the parking garage, smoking a cigarette and going through her purse. At first I walked right by. It was starting to get dark, and I didn't want to scare her. It would have been different if it was a guy. Guys all could use a little scaring.

But then something made me turn around. So I did, and I walked back to where she was. When I got her attention, she walked right up to me. She was about 45 years old, dressed for business. She paused when I asked her my question. And then she said "Sure."

"I was just waiting for someone," she said, "and I was just out here ... " She trailed off a little. What she was trying to say was she was trying to clear her head. And so she said again that I could pray for her. So I did. She thanked me then and walked away.