Poverty and Personal Crisis
Early this morning I stood in the shower, letting the water–as hot as I could stand it–cascade over my aching neck and shoulders.”This will probably be the most peaceful moment I have today,” I thought, lingering much longer than usual.
After only a couple of hours of sleep, I’d been awakened by a text message from my sister, Laurie. She had fallen and injured her “good” arm, the one she can lift above her head, and was on the way to the ER–1,300 miles away. A lifetime of…
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