Bundled up, Jake sat outside and watched a thin, pink sunrise of Christmas morning.
“Another Merry Christmas to the world,” he said raising a cup of coffee to his lips. “Wonder how many more I’ll get to see?”
At seventy-eight, his bones ached more than he wished, especially after having been up all night. “Guess I’d better get ready to visit the grandkids.”
He stood and smiled at the memory. It was his eleventh year of passing out blankets, food, and coffee to the growing number of homeless in his hometown. “God be willing, I’ll do it again next year.”



