As I walked outside on a cold January day, I felt the chills coming through my coat. This made me think of all the homeless people in the area who struggle to stay warm during these winter months.

I live near Washington, D.C., where the homeless population is double the national average. So I headed there, intending to help the homeless and make their day better.

Once I was in D.C., I passed Union Station and noticed a man sleeping on the wet grass in a park nearby. I walked over to him and asked if he was alright. He pulled away a blanket and looked at me irritably. There was despair in his blue eyes and the marks of harsh life on his face. It seemed as though the man had been homeless for years. I repeated my question, and he answered: What do you want? I reached into my pocket and offered him a hundred dollars. He was surprised but grateful and accepted the money. We prayed together before I continued with my quest.

I then approached a man sitting on a city bench, enjoying the sun. When I asked if I could join him, he smiled and accepted my offer. After learning about his story and struggle, I gave him a 100-dollar bill. He took it with great delight and said, “Thank you, God, not even Santa was this nice to me this year!”. He told me he would go out and buy food for himself and his friends at the shelter.

As I walked back to my car, I hoped my actions had made the cold winter days of these two gentlemen a little more bearable.