Her hair was matted to her head, short and sticky. In the absence of teeth, lips fell like a cave into her mouth. "Can I get some food?"
She did not look like she belonged and had invaded the line inside the restaurant. She came close to us.
No, we're not here for you. We're here for Madden. He's the one we're taking to lunch today.
Madden had just told us he relapsed yesterday. How could we support him? Food.
Without solid food in a belly, it's hard to think straight. Without thinking straight, there's a good chance of using again. We could do food.
We were about to order when her little head bobbled behind Johnny.
She was hungry, too.
Lines embedded in her face. Deep lines. Of age. Of pain. First time homeless. Came from East Texas to work the Fair and then found herself with no way back home. She's home-less even though she has a home in East Texas. She home-less because she couldn't get back to the home she owns.
No I.D. She lives outside. No access to showers, no one feeding her, no way home.
Wasn't it enough to feed one?
But her eyes. As I looked up and into them, I knew we had to feed her, too. Her eyes were his. The eyes of Love.
I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink.