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May 10, 2009

His son plays football in the big league and just bought a real nice condo in the city of big shoulders. He is proud. You can see it in his smile when he talks about him. Today, he just needs a little extra butter to down these grits. It’s been a tough week and, well, he’s gonna need a good breakfast to have a good day.

Her allergies are worse this fall. You know the ragweed is bad this year. But she looks forward to the relief that winter will bring. And this morning she waits outside for her husband as he grabs a warm meal. But then finds out there is room for one more. Embarrassed she’s so excited, she tries not to smile too big.

His mother always made the best chocolate pudding. Two gallons a week he swears he must have gone through. Seems the telling makes the story bigger every time it’s told. But more than anything he wants to be able to work hard enough to make his mom proud.

Being here, you can’t help but notice that these people are real. Real like you. Real like me.

They have beating hearts. Often broken. Often scarred. But beating.

They have hope. Not in themselves. Not in others. In only One.

He may not have a good resume.

She may just be hanging on with her fingernails.

But they are. Trying. Working. Serving.

And this is how they are living. Yes, living.

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