I've begun watching "A Woman of Substance," the story of Emma Harte, a young woman who begins life as an impoverished Yorkshire maid in the early 1900s. 

Within the first two episodes I was completely captivated by her. She is tender-hearted, sweet, innocent, and quietly determined to rise above grinding poverty.

There are scenes in which she is utterly humiliated by the wealthy, overbearing employers whose home she serves as a lowly maid. 

They are blind to her dignity, character, and worth. At times she is reduced to tears and helplessness, and I found myself overwhelmed with compassion, weeping with her and for her.  

My heart nearly burst with compassion for her, and I found myself thinking, It's just a movie. Yet everything within me longed to help her.

Then it dawned on me that, although I cannot help Emma Harte, I have the privilege each week of bringing words of faith, hope, and solace to the men and women in the jail. 

Though each person's story is different, many have endured circumstances just as brutal—and often far worse.

I may be qualified only to serve "the crumbs from the Master's table," but even those crumbs can bring life and healing.