Wintertide in the Blue Ridge mountains city of Asheville, in numerous haphazard flapping tents standing in the cutting wind, anonymous suffering of homeless people, wrapped in stale dirty blankets braced against the numbing, hurting cold, stubbed out hope and cigarettes on the hard ground, drivers speed by in avoidance, a worn cracked leather Bible carefully placed on a milk crate, prayers whispered and carried in frosty breath, while many people dine comfortably, snuggled in their homes, in the luxury of warmth.