I stood there, as if frozen, wondering why she thought I would have anything for the likes of her? The sour stench of her clothing engulfed my senses, and I made the effort to leave, quickly.

“Here,” I muttered, hoping nobody saw me. Unless one looked closely, they would almost miss the fine stitching of the threadbare glove on her outstretched hand. Although it had seen better days, and was hidden by stains, it had been a very fine glove. One that I myself would have owned. Yet there was something…

She accepted my meager offering with a gracious, and thankful spirit. “Thank you, ma’am, God bless you!”

I merely nodded and made haste to leave her presence. The cold February wind urged me on to my errand.  “Hmmm.  I wonder where she could have gotten that glove? It seems familiar.”