Behind me was the voice of a familiar Hindi word, “Hanji.” So, I turned around as I took it to be directed to me. There, in the dark, was the flower man whom I see from time to time. I stopped and let him come close when he spoke in English.
“The last time you saw me you said you would pray for my sister who has cancer.”
“Oh, I did, and I will do some more right now.”
“Is she doing better?”
“Yes. Here…” He handed me a twenty and asked that I please speak to Him on her behalf. I told him that he
