I recently saw a chance snapshot that moved me.  A jogger and a homeless man had met on a frigid winter street.  The homeless man, dressed in a thick winter jacket, was absolutely trouserless (probably feces related) and the jogger, dressed in a sweat shirt and sweat pants, was removing his pants to apparently give to the homeless man.  He did have a pair of boxer shorts.

I don’t know who the photographer was, but he caught in a symbolic way the donor’s heart.  To give away one’s pants on a cold winter day takes a heart as big as God’s (almost) and says something for humankind, in today’s news.  I don’t know if I’ll ever see that in this life again.

I know I’m indebted to him who gave his life for me.  Determined was he; he was not the least hesitant.  That was not symbolism.

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