Last night as I was walking home I overheard a conversation between a homeless man (or perhaps just a beggar) and a passerby leaving the grocery store. The beggar was asking for money for food as a man with the grocery bag passed by him. The man with the one bag stopped suddenly, turned around, and said something I found so fascinating and have never heard before.
"You know what, this loaf of bread was bought with food stamps. I have $ 0.78 to my name, so I'm not sure I can share anything with you tonight."
Everyone has a story. Big or small, it's always there. I like having the chance to see glimpses of those stories, especially when on first glance I erroneously perceive so many to be just like me.
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