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.