I was out and about this morning doing errands.

Faces were anxious.

Shelves were empty.

The rain fell cold on us all.

I saw a woman - obviously fighting cancer - mask covering her precious face.

What could I offer her?

Nothing, except to slow my pace, look her in the eyes, and extend a smile. Nothing big. Nothing extraordinary. Just the simple acknowledgement that I saw her. I respected her battle.

I waited in line with an elderly gentleman studying his prescription like it was a texbook. His shuffle was slow, unsteady, but determined.

What could I offer him?

Did he want to go ahead of me in line? "No," he said. "I am in no hurry. Got nowhere to go anyway."

So, we shared a smile. A simple conversation about the weather. We wished each other well.

As I walked, head down, through the puddle-filled parking lot I passed a mom helping her special needs son walk slowly into the pharmacy.

What could I offer them?

Not much. But I did lift my head, tip my umbrella askew to look them both in the eyes and extend a smile; two smiles. One each.

I did not share a Bible verse with anyone ...

I did not tell them I would pray ...

I did not invite them to church ...

All I offered today was the milk of human kindness. And they offered the same to me.

Somtimes, that is enough.

For today, that was enough.