He needed the $60 cash I had in my wallet, so he could get a hotel room for his wife and toddler-aged daughter.

Her name is Faith, he said.  Wounded war vet with no help from the VA; struggling to survive day-by-day, he said.  His name was Johnny.  I don’t remember his wife’s name, but I found it uncanny that they had named their daughter Faith.  Faith, who was conceived when he returned from war.  Faith, who was conceived while he was wounded, and after 15 years of marriage to his wife with not a pregnancy prior.  Faith, who has been living in a car and random hotel rooms for the better part of her short life.  I wonder if Johnny and his name-I-can’t-remember wife had any idea how poignant faith would be to them so shortly after the birth of Faith.  Johnny is worried she will remember these horrible times.  He does not want her to know this part of her life.

I am a sucker for the human experience; this I know.  I rank a tad high on the scale of naivete.  Regardless… Johnny seemed genuine.  Johnny seemed I-don’t-know-what-else-to-do true.  I had to act in faith for Faith.  Faith that goodness still exists in this human race of ours.  Faith that his Faith will sleep tonight in a warm bed with clean blankets, after a warm bath.  And perhaps a bedtime story.

Johnny left with a piece of my heart.  A bit devoted to faith; the remainder devoted to Faith.  Best of luck, Johnny.  Keep the faith, and Faith, in the foreground as you press on.  I believe in you.

 

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