Prayers for the Black Cat

Yesterday evening I approached a busy intersection where I can almost always bet a homeless person will be standing with a sign.

To my surprise, a black cat was sitting attentively at the spot where a person usually stands.

Now I don't have a love, or even a like for cats, but I felt bad for the dang thing. It was sitting there in the cold, probably minutes away from dashing out in traffic and become roadkill.

I found myself wondering who's cat it was... We're they looking for it? Was it lost? Hungry?

Then I thought, "I should probably say a prayer for the cat."

And I stopped suddenly in one of those moments of clarity and realization.

The homeless people on that corner have become a lawn ornament to me. They're always there, and most likely always will be. And I've stopped thinking about them.

Are they cold?

Are they hungry?

Are they lost?

Is someone looking for them?

And why don't I say a prayer for them? Ask God for their protection?

Why do I experience the 45 seconds of awkward-not-making-eye-contact-and-looking-at-my-phone and not exchange that for what I would give for the black cat?

With love from Sacramento,

Paige