It is sometime in January. But this does not matter. It is cold and dark, but this does not matter.  Thick grey winter clouds hang above our heads, creating a wall between the sun and us, completely preventing any light and warmth from reaching the street we our walk on.  Still, this does not matter. The wind is blowing from the southwest and the NFL conference championship games are only a few days away, but none of this matters.  On our calendar, we have appointments scheduled.  We have job interviews and meetings with clients.  Our children have recitals and plays.  We have parties, wakes, and baptisms to attend.  We are planning a winter getaway vacation, oh and there is grocery shopping and sweeping and vacuuming to do. Still, this does not matter. 

We are walking. Walking down vine street and we will take a right onto 13th, but this does not really matter.  The cold January wind blows a little harder, forcing us to zip up our coats a little tighter.  We then stick hands back in our pockets, deep inside our pockets.  Sill this does not matter. We are beginning to walk faster now; the wind has caused our pace to quicken.  While we do this, we simultaneously lower our heads, attempting to prevent the wind from stinging our cheeks. From this position, we cannot see more than a few paces out in front; so instead of looking at our surroundings, we concentrate on the sidewalk below, watching as the chips and cracks disappear beneath our feet.    

Suddenly, we find ourselves in a crowd.  We begin to push ourselves through this mass of people.  Short people, fat people, skinny people and tall people, they are all in our way.  Some of these people are beautiful, some of them are crazy ugly, and some of them are just crazy.  Some are shouting, others are laughing, but the majority are silent.  As a matter of fact, it is strange just how silent they are.    

We pass a man.  He looks like everyone else.  He is average height, average build, average weight.  He blends in with everyone, just another stranger in a crowd.  But, you see, this is the problem.  This is what matters.  Turn around.  Take another look.  Let us search for the things that we missed the first time; before, he was so easily dismissed.  Notice the way he walks.  His movements are sluggish, lethargic.  It almost looks as if he is wading through water.  There is fatigue in his face.  His eyes are gaunt and his cheeks are pale, not just from the cold winter wind that is blowing and forcing him to zip up his threadbare coat a little tighter; but instead, it is a ghostly type of pale, probably from an illness; who knows for how long.  This is what matters.  We were too busy to notice these details the first time.  We were so wrapped up in ourselves, in our own thoughts, and we failed to take notice of this stranger.  We failed at our chance to show a little compassion. This is definitely what matters.