Merry Christmas From The “Greatest Nation”
I will keep this short. I had planned to spend Christmas with my one true love, Lorena. Death intervened. It has been six months now. Lorena died too young and was deprived of a beautiful life. And I was deprived of the life I dreamt of. And I have cried a million tears. This year my parents invited me for Christmas. Hard to believe, I know. My parents are still alive. 90 and 99. And so I am here. Back in what they, and so many Americans, call the “greatest nation.” A couple of hours ago I went to get them a sandwich at Subway. Standing in below freezing weather was this woman. I sat in my car and watched as people came and went from the sandwich and neighboring shops with not one giving her a dime. I approached her and handed her some money. She asked God to bless me and I smiled and thanked her. And then the tears began. Not hers. Mine. I heard myself say, “I am so sorry. No one should have to live this way, to do what you are doing. Not here.” She put her sign