Meet crystal

I saw her from behind.

It was the way she moved that caught me. Each step placed with care, like the ground might argue back if she got it wrong.

No shoes.

Just bare feet on the sidewalk, already warm from the sun, already worn in the places you’d expect.

I said hello. Asked her name.

“Crystal,” she said.

We stood there for a minute, the kind of small conversation that opens a door just enough for something real to come through.

Then she said it.

“I really need shoes.”

There was nothing wrapped around it. No explanation. No attempt to soften it. Just a need, set gently between us.

I reached for what I had.

Food cards.

Meals I could offer right away. Something I’ve come to rely on, something that usually lets me say yes without hesitation.

But my fix didn't fit.

What she needed was simple and specific. A Walmart or Target gift card. A way to walk into a store and choose a pair that would carry her forward.

I didn’t have it.

And I knew I wouldn’t see her again.

Crystal nodded as we finished talking and continued on her way.

Step. Pause. Step.

I watched her go and felt it settle in.

I had been unprepared.

It’s been weeks now, and she still comes to mind. That stretch of sidewalk. The way she moved across it, one careful step at a time.

That day, all I could do was something quieter.

I prayed the next person would be ready.