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Author Hugh Hollowell

So much of what I call the “homeless industrial complex” revolves around power and control. If you look for it, you will find that it is everywhere. In the food pantry: “Stand here, in this line. Here, take this food, we picked out for you. You don’t like beets? Sorry, better luck next time.” In […] Read More

Grady was sitting in a rocking chair in the church nursery, holding a stuffed animal in his hands, with tears streaming down his face. It was the only quiet place available. “It’s all gone. I’m 58 years old, and it’s all gone. I’ve lost everything, man,” he lamented. “I was in the park today, and […] Read More

Her name is Mickey and she found me on Tuesday of last week, timid and uncertain. If you look up the definition of “mousy” in the dictionary, the entry should have her picture next to it. She is petite and naive looking. Though 26 years old, she looks 18 or 19. But spend some time […] Read More

Like most kids, when I was a child growing up in rural Mississippi, I used to pray for snow. Even if it looked like snow, they would cancel school. I remember we were once sent home early because it got cloudy. That is a true story. I lived more than 20 miles from the elementary […] Read More