I held my sign at Interstate 94 for a while with no luck. I have five dollars to my name which will buy me one meal for today. If I sleep under the same bridge tonight, I might get beat up. It’s easier to target someone who looks like they lost everything, but it is what it is. I will try again tomorrow. I will sleep in a park tonight. One day at a time. Second by second to stay alive. A spiral black vacated bench catches my eye, I hurry over and sit. My legs slowly stop screaming from standing too long. I sink back, slump and sigh.
By Brady O’Neel Brady O’Neel was born in Robbinsdale, Minnesota at North Memorial Hospital on March 7th, 1990. He was born to Brenda Burke and Randolph Johnson at 1:38 A.M. During the first few months of his life Brady was dealing with respiratory problems. He was hospitalized 7 times in the first 7 months of his life. Brady O’Neel has been through a lot in his life like having pneumonia and a feeding tube. During the duration of his life Brady was taken away from his birth family and placed into foster care. In foster care, Brady was physically and sexually abused by his foster Mom and sister. He was only 3 or 4. At the age of 7, his adopted parents Tom and Diane […]
By Patricia Fox My mother was dying. Really this had already been happening for years but it was now those final breaths, those last precious moments before an astral plane. That mansion atop a long, winding road upwards. It was a dream I had several months before her death about my mother, father and myself in a car. We arrived at this glorious Victorian house and a friendly, gracious priest we knew for years when both my parents worked for the Catholic Church, stood in the attic window, waving his greeting to us. This priest, this jolly Santa Claus, had been dead for a couple of years. I shared this dream with my mother at the time it happened and she remarked that in the […]