It was a cold, rainy night as I headed out of the supermarket on Main Street. Huddled on the street corner was a little boy, sopping wet and shivering. at the moment, all I really wanted to think about was getting home, getting dry, and crawling into my little bed, but a voice inside told me to stop. I took the little boy inside the supermarket to dry off a bit and bought him some biscuits and juice. I gave him my sweatshirt, a small wooden cross that I carry in my pocket, and some change for his ride home. As he left, he called out, “What is your name?” “Katie,” I responded, “Auntie Katie.” “Me, I am Daniel!” he shouted, and he disappeared into the night. That was almost a year ago.

Today as I walked into the supermarket to buy food for my family, two small brown arms wrapped around me, and a little voice excitedly proclaimed “Auntie Katie!” I turned to see a beaming Daniel. “Wait!” he said. He hurried to the nearest street vendor and bought me a popsicle with the little pocket change he had. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the small wooden cross. “I have never stopped praying for you every day,” he grinned.

I stand amazed at the goodness of our God. That rainy night, I really just wanted to hop on my piki and go home. But I stopped. I only gave him a sweatshirt (I’m sure I have 8 more). I only gave him some cheap biscuits (I can eat biscuits any day I like). I only gave him enough money for his ride home (probably less than the equivalent of 50 cents). But Jesus gave him hope. And he remembered. He didn’t just remember my face, though I’m not sure how he could even see me in the dark; he remembered my name. He prayed for me. He prayed for my safety and for the opportunity to see me again. I blessed him just one cold night, and he blessed me every day after that for this whole year.

Please. Never underestimate the power of your kindness.

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