It was easy to see that she was without a home. Her hands were dark and weathered, her face etched with age and dirt. She had come to the Father Jack Jones Food Pantry for food, sure, but also for the kind faces and the easy conversation. She asked Deacon Andy Heinsohn if he would pray for her. “Of course,” he answered softly, and took her aside for a private moment. He held her hands in his and prayed for God to sustain her, to give her peace, to keep her safe, and to bring her back to the pantry where she was cared for. When he opened his eyes, she was crying. “Oh no,” he said kindly. “What is it?” She had a hard time speaking through her tears. “I just can’t believe you held my hands,” she finally said. “I’m so dirty.” And she held out her hands as evidence. “I’m crying because no one ever touches me.” Food for the body and food for the soul were given at the food pantry that day.