His hair was dirty from sleeping in the local park, still matted with leaves, twigs, and dirt. The downpour refreshed the homeless man, a smile creeping across his toothless mouth. Holding both hands out, palms upward, he threw his head back, laughing. Onlookers stared, wondering where his joy came from.

“Mister,” the young girl asked, not the least bit frightened by his appearance. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because God is so good at taking care of me.”

“How?”

“He sent the rain, washing me,” he smiled.

“That makes sense,” she replied, splashing through the puddles, returning to her impatient mother.