The other day was an unusual morning for my husband. The traveling Vietnam memorial had been set up in Clovis. As a part of Kiwanis Club member, he was responsible to help take down the flags as it was leaving. While he was heading to the high school to fulfill his duties he drove past a man in a wheelchair pushing himself backwards down the street. On his way home he pasted him again. This time he stopped and asked if he could help the man. The man told him he was trying to get to the memorial. He was loaded up and off they went back to the high school. No big deal. But the guy's last name was "Thomas". When P headed home he then past another guy walking on the highway heading south. He picked him up and and gave him a lift. The guy's last name was..."Thomas". P ended up driving to the city south of us and bought him some breakfast. He had a real serious time talking to him about the Lord. Then heading back north he picked up ANOTHER man walking north. His name wasn't Thomas but his story was equally interesting. His original job of talking down the flags had already been done before he got there but no one had let him know.