to gina

Gina, you've lived there for seven years. Seven, while I've graduated high school, college, gotten married, and built a place of my own. What dreams fill your life? What empassions you? Your only prayer is for safety; mine is for job stability, fellowship, comfort, children, and a feeling of settledness. What a wretch I am. I couldn't feel the squeeze of your hands while we prayed with you. I couldn't feel your body tremble with the tears that filled your eyes. But as you turned away with your bag, your meager food provisions, and your prayer, I knew I wanted to see you again. I wanted to cry with you and hug you. I wanted to talk to you about Jesus. I wanted to be your friend. Can I come over again some other time?