Weary, Come Home

Like a lot of folks in the rural South during the first half of the last century, I had what people today might think was an unusual name. But I don't mind.

Each word of my name is like a stepping stone that explains my life.

I was lost and found.

I was unnamed and claimed.

I was a tired and weary stranger...

and then I gained a home.

***

Pastor Zeal Cooley lifted the crate and looked in the direction of the wooded area around the side door of the church. He nearly called out, "Anybody there?" But...