This is Will.
Fourteen years ago, he was homeless and addicted to heroin. I met him one day as he was digging through a dumpster for recyclables. Curious, I asked what had led him there.
He told me his story: after his wife died unexpectedly, he tried heroin once—and that one time spiraled into addiction. He lost his job, his home, and everything he had.
Over the months that followed, Will and I formed a friendship. I would look forward to seeing him at Hatch and Herndon. In fact, I enjoyed talking with him more than with my own partner at the time. We shared advice, stories, and helped each other through hard days.
Then, one day, he was just… gone. I never saw him again. For years I wondered if he had survived.
And then, God allowed our paths to cross again—at a different Chevron station, of all places. Will stood outside the bathroom, tears in his eyes, and asked if I remembered him. It only took me two seconds to know: it was my Will.
He reminded me of the boots and jacket I’d once given him, so he wouldn’t freeze. And of the $7 I gave him to get his ID—with the promise he wouldn’t spend it on drugs.
He kept that promise.
Will got his ID. Then he got a job. Then he found a wife. Most importantly, he found grace in the arms of our Heavenly Father.
We cried together right there in the store before asking the clerk to take our picture.
I share this because kindness matters. A jacket. A pair of boots. A few dollars. A conversation. It may feel small in the moment, but kindness can change the course of someone’s life.
Will is proof of that.
Be kind in all you do—because one day, it just might come back to overwhelm you with gratitude. ❤️
Credit: Jeanah Nomelli
