Brent

As I pulled into a gas station this morning, my eyes locked onto a man sitting in the sun-baked parking lot.  He waved.  I waved.  His wave was not a "please give me money" wave.  Rather, it said to me "Good morning, hope you have a nice day." 

I stopped and introduced myself to Brent.  He's 59 years old, battles an addiction to alcohol, lives on the streets and is too ashamed to reach out to family, including three children, for help.  Originally from Burbank, CA, he's lived in a half dozen states and used to work in the construction business framing houses. 

Brent shared that he was going to meet with an addiction counselor today and hoped to be accepted into a treatment program.  "I want it," he said.  "I haven't wanted it before, but now I want it. Bad."

He teared up as he told me that he took my stopping by as a sign.  "No one ever stops to talk," he told me, closing his eyes and biting his lip.  "Most people are scared or don't care. This feels good, like a new start."

I hope it is a new start and look forward to seeing Brent again for a follow up conversation.