She is only one of many. She has a past. She has a family. She has a story. Yet, here she is living on the streets of Tel Aviv. Homeless. Desolate.
She was a Jew living in Iran, experiencing the hatred thrown her way every day. (Can you only imagine that scenario?) She wanted a better life. She came back home to Israel, hoping to receive it, but it wasn’t there. She is one of the people we serve each Friday night as we take food out to the streets. She is a regular. Most volunteers know her.
Tonight we cannot go out to feed them. I wonder what she will do. I wonder what she will eat. I wonder if she asks herself why we aren’t there to help. I wonder if she’ll even notice.
She is only one of many.