She sat in her usual spot on the curb of a dead-end steet in a town long ago forgotten by time. Her disheveled hair reflected what her life had become. Her dull eyes and her dirty, tattered clothes gave anyone who passed by an excuse for not stopping to help. To comfort.
Category: suffering
The Day an Innocent Man Died
The Man’s mother pushed her way through the crowd to be near Him. He passed before her, beatened, bloodied and battered beyond recognition. He stumbled as He carried a cross on which He would be hung. He could not comfort her. She could not stop the madness.
The Gate
He did not even raise his hand to the door knocker as the heaviness of guilt and same of his many unconfessed sins brougnt him to despair. As the old man turned to walk away, he noticed that this gate, like all the other gates had never been opened.