He sleeps in his truck. Not as much now that snow is flying. I ask the neighbor again, are you sure he’s sleeping in his truck? He replied with a hard, definitive yes.
He’s not young. It’s one thing when you’re young and carefree, here for adventure, sleeping in your car or van. It’s another story to be on the vintage side of life, working to buy food and clothing, and sleeping in a rickety tin can of an automobile.
Because housing.
I will never grow accustomed to seeing this. Ever.
But you know what I noticed on his dash? The Holy Bible. Took my breath away.
Dear God.
I pray for the biggest mansions for those who sleep in cars, trucks, and vans, when they get to heaven. I pray for those who work outside, when temperatures hover in the teens during the ‘warm’ part of the day. They surely have not had it easy in the here and now.
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