“You know Jesus?”
The man looked up at the stranger who blocked his path as he tried to exit the hospital. He gazed at him with bloodshot eyes as he gave him an answer. “I’ve spoken to Him a few times. But I never got an answer.”
The stranger tried to say something but the man cut him off, “but son, when you get to be my age, you realize that He doesn’t have to answer you. You just need Him to listen. Someone who truly loves you will do that. But I’m sure you know that. You seem to have all the answers.”
In his hand he held a cross on a chain. It had belonged to his late wife, who had died earlier that day in the ICU. He brushed past the proselytizing stranger and into the cold rain.
