I was in Starbucks the other day, writing this column and I started thinking about things I did in my life that made me feel like I have truly contributed to society. Things like, volunteered at a soup kitchen… read to children in a shelter…told a fat women not to buy anything corduroy… Of all the good things I remember though…there is one incident that stands out in my mind. NYCares allowed me to go read bedtime stories to the children at the Ichan Housing Project on the West Side. After reading two short stories some of the other little girls began to crowd around me on the floor. “You’re pretty.” One of them said. “I know.” I said. “But…” The little girl continued. “You have roots..” She then pointed her finger to the top of my scalp where my highlights ended. I looked at her standing in her tattered clothes, her barely full belly protruding, arms mangled and bruised. I stopped reading, softened my eyes and said,. “Well, you’re homeless…and your mama is a hoe….” I then smiled, and felt truly blessed.
