Homeless lady in Vegas

I admit, I can be very judgemental.
My mind instinctively reads people, not always for the best.
Recently while celebrating my birthday in Vegas, my husband and I walked by a couple of homeless people. I couldn't help but over hear one of them, a woman, telling the other three how her mother recently "went home to be with the Lord."
This got my attention enough to give her a once over, she too was homeless, holes in the fingers of her gloves, wrapped around a bottle.
My eyes rolled in my head.  Great, another drunk homeless person evangelizing on the street.
I had seen my fare share of this throughout the weekend in sin city, and dismissed it as we walked away.
She followed us towards the elevator, and got in with us.  I couldn't help but look her over again.  Her eyes revealing her lack of sobriety as she caught my gaze.  "I really like that color" she murmured out.  I smiled politely but she continued "I know it is not a word...but that color is my most favoritist." her speech  was clearly intoxicated as she motioned towards my teal scarf that I wore around my neck, it was 9 am.  It was cold out.  I told her that it too was my favorite color.
We arrived at the top of the pedestrian bridge and went about our separate ways.
Then a still small voice tugged at my core.
I felt the sting of the winter desert air.  I stopped, removed my scarf and turned around.
I hesitated.
This was my favorite scarf, Brandon bought it for me on a date night in San Francisco just last year.
"Give it to her." the voice gently prompted me
I hesitated again.  She was walking away, the opposite direction of where I was headed.  Brandon too was walking towards our destination, unaware that I had stopped to wrestle with my conscience. 
I took stride.  She turned to look at me as I made one clean movement wrapping the scarf around her neck and fastening it so it would not come loose and keep her warm.  In that moment all the judgment I had had previously melted through my convictions. I saw her for who she was, a daughter of a lost mother, a child of God.  Her eyes watered as she stared at me with disbelief.  
"You have got to be kidding me..." she stuttered out with emotion. 
"God asked me to give this to you. Stay warm." I stated as I squeezed her shoulders gently.  
We locked our gaze for a moment more before I turned to join my husband inside the warm casino.  I didn't look back at her until I was past the darkened glass of the closing doors.  She still stood staring in my direction.  

IN a matter of minuets I went from total disgust with a complete stranger, to completely touched by the same individual.  All because God took the time to remind me that we are all his people, despite our circumstance.  She needed that scarf far more than I ever did.  But more so, she needed a reminder that she is a person, loved by God above.  I don't know her name, but I will probably never forget her face.  And it is her face that I picture  as I say a prayer for her each night.