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.
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