It was another tough night in finding someone to pray for. But I finally came across a guy filling up a white car with gas. I think he was Hispanic, but I'm not sure. I do know his English was rough. The guy himself was rough-looking. He was short and stout, maybe 35 years old. He cleaned all the windows of his car and then popped the hood, to check the oil, I think.
I asked him my question just as he was about to get into his car. He looked at me kind of funny, trying to understand. "Pray," I said, putting my hands together and closing my eyes. The light started to dawn. "To who?" he asked. "To God," I said, and then (to make sure he understood this wasn't just any god), "To Jesus."
He got on board with that and told me I could pray for him right then and there. So I did. During that prayer, the guy bowed his head and quietly mumbled his own prayer in his own language. Then he thanked me, and we shook hands. "God bless you," he said.
So that was that. By the way, Happy Birthday Sam!
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