I parked my car in a coveted parking space directly in front of Starbucks. I was glad for a short walk since it was cold enough to snow. I locked my door and rushed against the wind toward the tantalizing aroma that wafted out of the double doors.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of someone approaching. I walked a bit faster. I had a feeling it was a homeless person who was going to ask me for money. Sure enough, I heard his voice despite the violent wind.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
I wanted to just keep walking. I was almost to the doors and warmth and coffee. But my conscience wouldn’t let me ignore him. I turned and faced his strained eyes. Although his look was disheveled, he appeared to be quite young under his overgrown beard. He wore a beanie and a dirty, threadbare coat.
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Christian Poets and Writers 