I had worked a 15 hour day on Tuesday and was not able to get out and share my faith. Fortunately, I have a back-up plan for times like these: I go down the street to the Arco station where the taxis line up for business.
There were none that night.
I had to get out of my car and go inside the Mini-Mart. I gave a Gospel tract to the Spanish speaking guy. No habla Ingles.
Ah, but on the sales floor was a mean looking gang-banger type wearing the de rigeur baggy clothes. I gave him a million dollar bill and asked the million-dollar question. He replied that he was going to hell and admitted to lying, thieving, adultery, and blasphemy. I asked him his name.
“What name do you want?”
“Oh, any name is fine,” I said.
“Wolf.”
I gave him the Gospel and he understood. I offered him a stack of millions but he only wanted two of the bills. “I don’t want [the cops] to think I’m pulling a scam.”
I sized him up once more. I understood.
-Steve Sanchez