My day, the Sunday

-Yesterday, Sunday was a day in the life. I spent most of the day at an ABA show in the city here. Now an aba show is quit fun for those of us who do hair. This show I spent more time finding sales on things I needed for my job. It is hard to bight the bullet and spend the cash but I also have to realize that if I don't get it now then I will have to get it later and it will no longer be on sale so I did it. I still didn't go as far as I had first hoped to but trust me it is very hard for me.
-I also had a friend who was a model in the show so while she was free we hung out. For the show her hair was cut into a mullet, yes full fledged. To both of our shock and dismay not only was she not the only one but people loved it, it was on the posters and it was nasty. She plans on getting it cut as soon as she can. I later spent the evening with her and her boyfriend who is also a friend of mine.
-Now , though my time with them was fun, it is not what has compelled me to write today. No the subject I wish to approach caused me to come to tears last night. I could not even hold back till I was in the privacy of my own space. I want all to know (for I know some who will read what I say and fear for my life if not given this disclaimer first) that I was totally in the hands of the Lord and did not fear during this time last night. This I know for the whole of the time spent I saw behind a man who worked for the station and I knew he kept an eye on us both, and when he left he asked if I was alright.
- I got home on the bus and then the c-train my wait at the train station is where this story begins and does also end. As I sat crouched in wait for the train an older native fellow approached me where I sat. Extending his hand he gave me his name while I kept mine to myself for, I felt, he did not need mine to feel free, as he did. I then sat next to me and proceeded to chat. He also sang a song for me and though he be utterly drunk he sang quit well, infact I felt much better than alot I have heard. He sang a song for me that he claimed to have written. Whether he did or not it moved me to think of his life. The song was of love and of being alone, of walls being built of stone, of people working together to build such walls, and though these walls are built they will fall and in the end all we will have is love. He sang with passion his life to me. He then ventured on to talk of "the seal" and how it can be broken, that if broken it opens the way to two places. Asking of these two places he announced them to be heaven and hell. I asked of the seal and that which it is made of, his reply was, "the mind, the body, and the heart". Who breaks this seal? Others do. He believed he should go to hell when his seal is broken, I asked why but he thought to deep to take me with him. I know no more than that, I fear there was nothing I could say for I knew not where to go with it. He left me with the despair he only could know and I could only imagine. As my train arrived he left, and there is no more that I could say. Oh did I miss something, did I not take up an opportunity laid before me by my Father in heaven? My responses, were they full enough, were they of any consequence to him? As I rode my trained home the tears fell freely and still can come in an instant. What can I do? How can I help?