There are sexual predators in all walks of life. It seems they are more concentrated in the larger cities. I have seen aggressive and dangerous people who make it a passion of life to hurt people. In this city I have heard of homosexual predators who hang out in certain hotels and sit at the windows to watch for victims. If they spot someone who attracts them, they will begin to stalk them, waiting for the right moment to attack and sexually assault. Some of the more depraved will even roam the streets looking for drunks who have passed out somewhere and rape them while they sleep. Some of these drunks never wake up again, because the homosexual men will brutally murder them in their sleep. This is why most homeless men have a buddy whom they look out for and who looks out for them at all times.
It was 3:00 A.M., and I was standing on the corner talking with a few of the bums. Suddenly a truck drove up and stopped in the middle of the street. Two homosexual men jumped out. One man grabbed my arms and the other grabbed my legs. They had obviously been watching me and had decided I was their victim for that night. Right in front of everyone they tried to put me in their truck and take me away! It happened so fast that I didn’t have time to defend myself. One of the bums who had been standing on the corner with me began fighting with the two men, trying to get me free. One of the homosexuals punched him, knocking him to the ground. Several more of my street friends jumped in the middle of the fight to save me from rape and possibly even death. Time and again they were knocked to the ground, but each time they’d get up swinging. Finally one of the bums yelled, “Kurt’s getting hurt! We need help!”
What happened next was astonishing. Bums came out of buildings and climbed out of dumpsters. They ran out of the alleys. Every imaginable hiding place delivered up more of my street friends. Soon the truck was surrounded by a gang of derelicts determined to do whatever it took to set me free. They physically overpowered the two men. Seeing that they were outnumbered and had no chance of getting me into the truck, they dropped me on the ground, striking my head on the hood of the truck.
There I sat in the middle of the street, rubbing my sore head, completely stunned by what had just taken place. I couldn’t believe all of the men who’d come out of the shadows to defend me. It was then that I realized how many friends I had made over the months I had lived on the streets.
Soon the police came, and we all ended up in the drunk tank. As we sat together in the jail cell, I was touched by the concern my friends showered on me. I prayed, “Lord, what a beautiful feeling to be cared for by other people. The only thing these men have to give away is love, and they have given it to me.” I couldn’t help but feel that they were trying to give back some of what I had given them. I was touched. I realized they had helped me because they cherished our friendship.
What a comfort to be ministered to by those to whom I had ministered.