1The road from Jerusalem to Jericho was long and rocky, winding down through hills of pale gold dust.
2A traveler named Eli walked that road one warm afternoon, his sandals scuffing quietly along the stones.
3A man in a fine robe came walking along. He saw Eli sitting there. He looked, he paused — and then he walked on by, stepping to the far side of the road without a word.
4Then a second man came hurrying past. He glanced sideways at Eli, pulled his cloak a little tighter, and kept on walking, his sandals clapping faster against the stones.
5Then came the sound of unhurried footsteps. A man from Samaria — a place far from Eli's own home — rounded the bend in the road. He wore a cream linen tunic and a mantle the soft color of deep water, with a brown sash tied at his waist. When he saw Eli, he did not look away. He stopped.
6"Friend," said the Samaritan, crouching down beside him, "you look very tired. May I help you?"
7Then, gently, he took a clean folded cloth from his pack and wrapped it softly around Eli's sore forearm, tucking the edge in with careful fingers.
8The Samaritan helped Eli to his feet, and the two men walked together, slowly, all the way to the inn at the bottom of the hill.
9As the stars began to appear above the dusty road, Eli looked at the kind man beside him. "You did not even know me," he said quietly. "Why did you stop?"
10The Samaritan smiled, his gentle brown eyes warm in the lamplight. "Because," he said simply, "I saw you." A neighbor is not only someone who lives next door. A neighbor is anyone we choose to stop for — anyone we truly see.
