Two years ago, I got angry one night in mid December, and went for a drive. I stopped for gas and a young man who I had driven by earlier walked by wearing jeans and a hoodie. It was 20 degrees, but with the wind, felt like 10.



Against my better judgement, I offered him a ride:

I don't give rides to strangers. Ever. But I felt compelled to offer.



Where are you headed? I asked.



He told me.



I'm from NY, I'm not sure how far it is, he said.



I know where you're going, I told him. (just a mile up the road)



He got in my Jeep. His fingers were bright red.

We started to chat. His mom was dead. He had lived with his girlfriend but they broke up. He couldn't afford their apt on his own income, and had ended up homeless, staying on couches. His GF had owned their car and when he couldn't always find a ride, he ended up losing his job.