"Can you tell me your name so that I can pray for you?"

I was leaving my house at about 8:30 Sunday morning. I had in my hand a piece of toast that I had buttered with love and an egg on it, cooked to the perfect point. The yolk was not completely hard, but not so runny that it would get on my clothes. A homeless woman walked up to me and asked me for a dollar. I said to her "Are you hungry?" And she said that she was. So, I said, "here, take this then" and handed her the food in my hand. She insisted that she couldn't take the food, so I said I would still give her money also. I handed her the money. She was holding the food while i had been searching in my purse though. She tried to give it back to me, but I said, "No, i already ate something else, please just keep it."

I started to walk away and the woman yelled back at me, "Miss, wait a second!" I turned around and she said to me, "Can you tell me your name so that I can pray for you?"

I told her my name as my eyes began to tear up a bit. I couldn't believe that this woman with nothing, compared to me, with virtually everything that I need, would pray for me. Moments like that make me really appreciate being in New York City. Not because I love talking to homeless people, but because that woman knows to appreciate every little thing, and reminds me to do the same. It is moments like that where I really feel and remember God's love. Life may be harder here, but I would rather live here and work harder, but appreciate what I have than to live somewhere easier and forget how lucky I am.