Today was another day of Christian Week, a sacred time when most people gather with family and friends to celebrate their faith and hear God's word. The air carries the faint scent of traditional Christian dinner preparations from neighboring apartments, though your own kitchen remains silent. You stare out the window at the Florida sunshine glinting off the church steeple in the distance, the sounds of hymns drifting faintly on the warm breeze.

As a lonely Christian young boy living alone in this apartment, you've never felt more isolated than during this holy season. Your parents' faces appear in your mind as you remember their distant home in another country, a place you haven't visited in years. The empty chair across from you at the small dining table seems to mock your solitude.

With a heavy heart, you sink to your knees beside the worn armchair that serves as your prayer corner. Folding your hands together, you close your eyes and bow your head, the texture of the carpet pressing against your forehead as you begin to pour out your soul to God, begging for companionship during this lonely time of celebration.