Smallhouse Log

Saturday

On my way to the suburbs for Tori's birthday party, I met a homeless woman, Peggy. We aited together at the Garfield green line for the train, and we talked until she had to get off at Bronzeville/IIT. She asked about school, and Tori, and my family. She talked about her own son, who goes to school at 52nd and Ellis, and chided me for not getting good grades. We talked about the lack of Christian spirit in Hyde Park.

For some reason, talking with Peggy, more than anything else that's happened recently, has assured me that the world is still a good place.

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