Amy, my sister in dream-chasing, had one last day with me. What could my dippy old Charlotte have to offer compared to finding wild Assateague ponies by kayak, or biking on a wildlife refuge along the ocean, or wearing umbrella hats and climbing the hill to the Virginia Capitol building, or dodging the rapids while kayaking across the James River?
"Well," I suggested, "We could kayak across the Catawba, dock at the National Whitewater Center, and look around. Maybe have lunch there."
Amy, who has a zest for life and all new experiences said that sounded wonderful. We kayaked up the Catawba, scaring herons out of their hiding places on the bank. We crept up to turtles with our oars barely making a sound, and saw who could come closest before they plunked into the water. Then we docked at the Whitewater Center across the river, when we realized neither of us had brought money from my car for our lunch. So I kayaked back to the car, leaving Amy to hobnob with nature on the shore. I grabbed some money, relocked the car and returned to the other bank of the Catawba. We meandered along the churning water of the Olympic whitewater training facility. Amy was enthralled. We had lunch at the charming little restaurant there overlooking the rapids. As we watched rescue teams training in the violent water, Amy told me about how she once saved a young boy and his babysitter from drowning in the ocean.
"That was a lifelong dream," she told me, "To save someone's life."
We finally returned to our kayaks and peacefully slid back across the river. Before driving to the airport, we sat on the marina porch watching the Catawba and herons in their treetop roosts. I didn't want the magical time with my sister to end, but finally, it was time, and I drove her to the airport.
It was rush hour as I slithered home dejectedly. I decided to get off the crawling interstate and took lesser known sidestreets. At one intersection, the light turned red, and I noticed a man limping, with a cardboard sign: "Everyone needs a little help sometimes."
Ain't that the truth!
I pulled forward and reached under my seat for the "homeless bag" I try to keep stocked in the car at all times. Rolling down the window, I handed him the bag, filled with goodies.
He smiled and laughed when I handed him my homeless bag. "You make these ahead of time?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes," I told him, "I love Jesus and he commands me to do so. Jesus is my Lord and Savior and has helped me a lot. Do you know Jesus?"
The limping man gazed at me with clear, deep blue eyes, and smiled again. He reached for my hand and clasped it. He told me he knows Jesus too, and he knows that Jesus will help him. I asked him if he was looking for work. He said he's a housebuilder and a good one too, so I gave him a suggestion of a friend I know who builds houses. Then the light changed. I asked him his name, and told him I would pray for him. As I drove away and waved, he looked a little more hopeful. (Please say a prayer for Jason that he finds work building homes.)
"I build beautiful homes," he called after me, "I am very good at it! God bless you!"
I gave him a thumbs up.
I was very sad to see my sister fly away and have my storybook vacation with her come to an end. But it lightened my heart to see the clear blue eyes of the homeless man light up, and to hear him laugh with joy that I had made bags of food ahead of time for someone such as himself. The world felt a little less burdensome somehow.
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