I can work fast, and I can even make an announcement tonight along the lines of, "Tomorrow, we're giving you a really nice Christmas dinner, but we are still working on gathering gifts for youse, and will hook you up in a few days or weeks."
I just have to come through.
The problem with books is that half of my guys are primarily Spanish speaking. I work in a neighborhood dominated by Salvadorans. Many of the residents are refugees from the Salvadoran Civil war of 1980 to 1992. Most of them have worked hard to get their lives together, but a certain percentage never have recovered, and they're a big chunk my clients, slammed by alcoholism and mental illness. Apart from that, one of the first things the government did during the war is to shut down the schools to keep the populace in ignorance. So the illiteracy rate in both English and Spanish is high.
I tell you though. I visited the hypothermia shelter last week before lights out and one of the guys was reading a Sue Grafton mystery, and it almost brought tears to my eyes. You work with guys by the dozens or the hundreds, and you can too easily forget the humanity of the individual.
It's like the guy I saw have the siezure several weeks back. When he came to he was a disoriented mess with a terrified look on his face, and it was easy to just think of him as another maniac, especially since the soda he was drinking had splashed all over his shirt when he siezed up. But I had the groceries he had been carrying just moments before his brain short circuited. Soup, fruit, groceries, a magazine. Just moments before he had made simple decisions to get through a simple evening the way we all do.
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