I watched her for a few moments, slowly and meticulously working her way around her car, cleaning the windows. She used the scrubber in one hand and a paper towel in the other, making sure the glass was perfectly clean. The woman probably was in her 60s with long black hair billowing up around her in the wind. She didn't move very well, or quickly, and she had a brace on her right wrist.
I asked her my question. She looked at me, and then went back to cleaning her windows. "Oh no," she said, "I don't need any more prayers. I've had enough prayers. I lost my sister and my niece and we've been praying a lot. Tomorrow, we're going to pray some more."
I told her I'd like to pray for her right then. "No," she said, matter-of-factly. "I've been prayed for enough." That wasn't logical, but I didn't argue. I just told her I would pray for her as I was driving away. She said that would be fine, as she kept scrubbing those windows.
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