He was standing by the dumpster in the early morning light, a tall man with matted hair and dirty clothes that smelled of urine. I could hardly believe my eyes. “Roger, I’m so glad to see you!” I cried, throwing my arms around his neck. “Where have you been?” It seemed like a resurrection.
Once a frequent guest at Catholic Charities, where I worked, Roger had suddenly dropped out of view. Months had passed, and I had heard he...
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