On my way home.

We had just finished happy hour, celebrating, congratulating a co-worker on their new job. Celebrating with drinks, with others, in a happy way. I get on the train, and I look across the aisle and there's a man sitting there. He looks like he's half asleep, but he doesn't look homely, and then he takes a paper bag from his side, and he lifts it to his lips, alcohol. Not celebratory, not happy, sad. I saw so much despair in that one glance. I wanted to cry. I wanted to go over and hug him. I don't know what he was going through, I don't know what had happened in his life, but I wanted to cry for him. Instead, I sent up a silent prayer. I prayed that he would find what he was looking for, not in that bottle, or any other bottle, but a real contentment. It was a tough ride, it was hard and I don't know if I handled it right, maybe I should have told him that things were gonna change. That I would pray for him. But I didn't, but I hope next time I'll know what to do. And please send up a quick prayer likewise.