My brother, Allan, passed away in April of 1977–he was just 33 years old. He was a kindhearted, gentle man. Most people called him “Smiley” because he was always smiling, so full of joy. He loved life and everyone and everything in it. Over the years, he didn’t have much money, or many material items, but he’d willingly give his last dollar or the shirt off his back to help someone in need. He was just that way.

There were nights he spent sleeping in doorways and alleys and times he was hospitalized. There were times he couldn’t cope with all the chaotic noise the world brings and there was numerous times he just didn’t think he’d make it. Our Momma, a woman of faith, would assure him: Allan, beauty is up ahead; you just can’t see it yet. Still, he struggled to carry on, bowing beneath the weight of the world that (he felt) rested so heavily upon his shoulders.

And, as my sweet brother traveled through this world, most times on foot or by bus, God sent people who reached out to him. A mission tended him or someone would treat him like he was a real person with a heart–no matter that he didn’t have a car, a home, or money in the bank. It’s because of this that I — and my family — have a strong desire to help those who wander through life, feeling lost and alone and like they aren’t important and don’t matter. It’s the wayfaring strangers, like my brother, who we are called to serve.

It was my brother. Tomorrow it might be your brother. It seems like we can’t reach our own but we always pray that God send somebody. And if  you or your family has needs, pray that God will send me.