Daily Skiff

Issue date: 4/17/09 Section: Features

Media Credit: Chance Welch Clint Gresham [Click to enlarge]

He was driving south on University Drive when he saw the homeless woman walking beside the road. The sadness of her face drew his attention, and he wheeled his white Chevrolet Tahoe into the parking lot at Panera Bread and rolled down the window.

"Hi, can I get you anything?" Clint Gresham asked the woman.

"A cup of coffee would be nice," she told Gresham, probably unaware that she was talking to the senior long and short snapper on the Horned Frogs football team.

Gresham parked his car, went into Panera and soon returned with coffee and two sandwiches - one for her, one for him. And together, the college student and the homeless woman sat down to eat in a grassy area on University Drive.

Gresham is no stranger to making odd friendships. This 225-pound Horned Frog would say he was like anybody else. He likes the color blue, loves sports, was an avid Sesame Street fan at age 5 and still thinks his backyard would make the other kids cry out of jealousy.

He has a "crafty" father - he built Gresham a dream tree house connected to a zip line that shot him all the way across the yard.

Annmarie Olind, Gresham's girlfriend of two years, said he always had a close relationship with his father.

"His dad is the rock of that family; what he hopes to be and he really looks up to is his dad," she said.

It was his drive to follow in his father's footsteps that led him to the football field.

"His dad played football at Texas, so he wanted to be just like him," Olind said.

Gresham was offered a scholarship in high school to play at TCU but chose to spend his freshman year playing for the University of Oklahoma before transferring back to play for the Frogs.

And if he hadn't, he might never have met the homeless woman who learned all these things about Gresham over a Sunday picnic beside a busy street.

Gale Moore - carrying her life on her back ­- sat on her red beaten suitcase and smiled with anticipation as Gresham greeted her with warm drinks and two brown bags full of Panera's turkey sandwiches.

The two sat together to share not just food, but conversation. They talked about where they came from, Moore ­- from a little bit of everywhere - Virginia to Mineral Wells, Dallas to Fort Worth; and Gresham, a Corpus Christi native. The conversation had no limit and while the Panera lunch crowd came and went, Gresham continued to picnic with Moore. She joked about how his girlfriend would be jealous of the time he spent with her.

Maybe in his younger years he wouldn't have stayed, but since the summer of 2005, he's seen life a little differently.

"I knew that God performed miracles but it felt like such an archaic thing, like Bible stuff that doesn't happen anymore," Gresham said.

Eyes wide and aware of the - as he put it - "bizarre" things he was about to say, he outlined the day that affected him so strongly that it continues to shape his life.

"I was having really bad back pain, to the point where I couldn't walk, and I was getting ready to start football with Oklahoma so I needed to be ready," Gresham said. "My second cousin has a healing ministry so I went. He sat me down and he said, 'Lord, will you just show Clint what the cause is of this pain?' It was like a flash of light suddenly hitting me."

Gresham's miracle didn't end there. When his cousin demanded that the shorter of his legs heal itself, causing off-balanced vertebrae to realign, Gresham could actually feel his body moving.

"I stood up and got really, really dizzy. I threw up, but after that I didn't have any more back pain."

This 6'3" sandy blond-haired football player knows the idea is hard to believe. He still has difficulty telling the story without spontaneous interruptions of "it's really bizarre" or "this is crazy," but even as he spits out the words one after another, he explains how he believes his actions are a direct result of what he's been through.

"I want people to see God's love through me," Gresham said. "I go where I feel like he wants me to go, I talk to the people I feel like he wants me to talk to and the more that I do it, the more receptive people are to it."

Sitting with a homeless woman wasn't exactly Gresham's first act of kindness that day.

"When I saw her I was actually driving back from a motorcycle rally," Gresham said.

He told about the little boy he was on his way back from seeing, his head deformed from the surgeries, a necessity in an attempt to save his life.

"His name was Kendrick Little," Gresham explained. "I was at Subway getting a sandwich and this lady in front of me had this sign with a picture of a 4-year-old boy. You have to be listening for it, I mean, God's voice. I think his voice is like a whisper in a loud room."

There in the Subway line, Gresham heard that whisper telling him to pray over a terminally ill cancer patient.

A similar whisper that told Gresham to pull his car over and enjoy lunch with an old lady who only had a suitcase to show where she had been.

"I found out she had bad teeth so she couldn't eat all of her sandwich. I wish I would've known that cause I would've brought her soup or something," he said.

Worrying about others may be the only worry Gresham has anymore.

"When I was little, yeah, I was happy," he said. "But I mean a lot of stuff got to me. I had a lot of fear about where I would be in life. But I really don't have any worries anymore."

And Gresham hasn't worried about his future since 2005 when his life changed in a huge way. As he explained, he went from "playing church" before, to living what he calls a truly blessed life every day.

"It wasn't an overnight thing. I mean you have to seek after God and have the desire," Gresham said. "God gave us free will, so we can choose to do it his way or choose to do it alone, but it's a lot harder alone. Trust me, I've done it that way."

Gresham's positive outlook has matured him, Olind said.

"He's just got such a great heart and he wants to share that with others," Olind said.

Gresham shares his optimism and humor in moments like those with new friend Gale Moore.

"Yeah, I never talk about God," Gresham smiles, "until I tackle people."

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