I shivered as the wind bit into my arms and legs. My sweatshirt flapped uselessly in the wind, and my hair whipped against my face. I pulled my hood up to sheild myself from the wind and leaves as puffs of steam floated from my mouth. The sky was gray, the world was gray, the mood was gray.

I watched my feet as I walked, I was crunching leaves, and wrappers and bags rustled by. I looked up and stopped in my place. There was a man in a long, brown overcoat standing in the middle of the street. He pulled his own hood down, and a bundle of long, brown hair fell down his shoulders. He called my name and held out his hand. I have seen him before, but I don't know where. Then again, I know I haven't. He was a familiar stranger.

I trotted up to him. He extended is arm, "Walk with me." Cautiously, I took his arm gently, and we slowly went onwards. "You seem a little lost. Anything wrong?"

I shook my head, "I'm not lost, but there certainly are things amiss in my life..."

The man brushed my hair from my face, "Please, share with me." His face was soft and empathetic.

I sighed heavily, "I feel overwhelmed. So many feelings bottled up, thrown away, and forgotten about. At any given moment, though, the bottle could shatter, and everything would spill out." I clutched his arm tighter and pressed my cuff against my mouth to surpress a sob. I licked my lips and got a taste of my sleeve. It was sort of salty, and I remembered how many times I had wiped away tears onto it.

The man rubbed his scruffy beard and mustache, "How do these feelings build up?"

I shrugged, then huddled closer to him for warmth, "I don't know, they just... They just come..."

"Perhaps that is how they appear, but they shouldn't build up. Are you sharing them with anyone?" the stranger asked.

I turned my head away, "...no."

The man frowned, "Well, why not? You've got friends, don't you? That's what they're for."

I shook my head, "They don't deserve to be burdened with my troubles. If I share how I feel, they will feel the same way. And if I'm feeling depressed, they will, too, and they don't deserve that. Besides, some people think I act like I do just to get attention. So, I just keep to myself..." I sniffled and rubbed my red nose.

The stranger spoke softly, "I know your friends may not have all the answers, and they may not completely understand, but it sounds like at times your emotions become too big a burden to bear all on your own. If you ask them to help and they abandon you, they obviously aren't loyal friends."

I started to cry, "What can they do for me? You said it yourself, they don't have all the answers and won't always understand. And what about the people that think I'm just doing this for attention?"

The man ran his fingers through his hair, "When I tell you to share it, I don't mean with everyone, just with those you trust. As for your friends, ask them to pray for you. The more people praying for you, the stronger the results. You have been praying, haven't you?"

I lowered my head and pulled up my scarf staying silent.

He sighed, "How do you expect to get through this?"

I was quiet again.

We stopped walking and he hugged me. I began to sob, and he held me close. I felt something cold against my face, and when I opened my eyes I saw it to be a golden cross necklace. I knew this man seemed familiar. "Who are you?" I whispered quietly.

"I'm a stranger to you now. It is your job to strive to know me more." He patted me on the head, "Now, pray with me."

With that, we knelt down next to the curb and prayed. We prayed that God would help me overcome my overwhelming feelings of sadness and depression and that I have the courage to share and trust my friends with my troubles. We prayed for my friends, family, jobs, hopes, and a lot more, too.

When I opened my eyes the sun was peering out from the gray clouds. The wind had gradually ceased and the man's words were echoing in my head, You need not carry your yoke on your own. Take them to me and I will help.

"Why are you doing this for me?" I asked standing up. When I arose, though, that familiar stranger was no longer there. I felt something dangling around my neck, and I raised my hand to my chest. I felt that same golden cross that had once been around the neck of my stranger friend.

With renewed hope I pulled down my hood and walked down the road, a skip in my step to the beat of my heart.