Subhead
Writing what I live and see
The couple needed gas for their car, an old clunker with plastic taped on every side window. The bumper was rusty, and the engine rattled; the clanking sound seemed like giant wind chimes banging under the hood. Sometimes, they’re homeless; other times, they find a place to live for a season.
I met them at a fast food restaurant in Texarkana since I was headed to do some street ministry, and we…