John Was His Name


He sat on the back row of the sanctuary.

It was the middle of winter and we were experiencing a series of very cold days. He wore old, soiled clothes, probably hadn’t had a bath in weeks. He looked ragged, dirty clothes, unkempt hair.

No one sat down next to him. Who would want to sit next to him? He smelled. He was a stranger, a man nobody had seen before. He didn’t fit in with our other members, that was for sure.

And then I watched Jane get up from where she normally sat and move back and slide in next to him. She actually talked to him. She found out his name was John.

Over the next weeks, Jane and some others found ways of helping John out, especially during the sub-freezing nights.

Eventually, John moved on, but for a few days, he found some comfort, all because someone cared enough to sit next to him and find out his name.


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