Just Before Dark …

I stopped this evening to grab a salad at my favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican place.  It’s my favorite.  It’s one of those little joints where you walk down the line and supervise what goes onto your plate.  I always order the Ensalada Bajia.   I walk along asking for a little of this … a lot of that … more cilantro, please.

I paid for my meal to go and walked out of the restaurant only to stop dead in my tracks.  At a small table just outside the restaurant was a woman.  Obviously homeless.  Certainly hungry.  I asked her if she liked salad.  “Yes,” she said quietly.  “Well, here.  I got this for you,” I smiled.

I went back in the restaurant, ordered another salad to go and stopped briefly by the table where I had earlier left the first salad.  “I hope you have a great night,” I said.  “My name’s Gail,” she said.  She asked my name, then said she would pray for me, “it being Easter and all.”

That was nice.  That was really nice.

As I turned out of the drive and onto the main street, I noticed another woman … again obviously homeless … hurrying toward the restaurant.  I envisioned her a friend of Gail’s, two women sharing a lovely salad on a beautiful spring evening.

Yeah.  That was nice.


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