The least of these...

I wait to leave the welcome center to get on the road until the sun is descending closer to the mountain tops and the wind has calmed a little. The center has closed and the internet no longer works. I look around for the suffering stranger and am relieved to see he is no longer around - at least that I can see.

I take off into the sunset, marveling once again at the majestic, snow-tipped mountains and the great expanse of the Mother unfolding all around me.

And then, not a mile or two onto the highway, I see a figure trudging along the shoulder, brown hair flopping in time to his stumbling steps, faded grey/green paisley material blowing out behind him like a final wave goodbye.

I wonder how many people steel their hearts to pass him, as I steel mine.