one hand in my pocket and the other one is giving a peace sign.

We turned off the interstate in the usual place and I saw him. Scruffy gray hair, cardboard sign, cigarette down to the nub. His eyes were cold. I smiled stiffly.

"Mommy, he wants food. Why does he have his fingers like that? Does he want two foods?"

Maybe...I answer, not fully listening. It was early, and it had already been a rough day.

"Mommy, we should give him some food."

Honey, we don't have anything.

"Mommy, I could give him the rest of my banana."

The banana is eaten down to a tiny nub. Her eyes are earnest. I tell her we'll be sure to bring food next time. Maybe God will give us another opportunity to share. We pass him by.

"Mommy, we should go get him some food."

Okay. That's a great idea, Clairegirl. And it was. We drove home, chose snacks, returned. I silently prayed that he would still be there. That he wouldn't be intoxicated. That it wouldn't be awkward or weird.

And it wasn't. She sees things that I don't see. He thanked us and we headed home a second time.

These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates." Deuteronomy 6:6-9