The past 6 moths have been trying non-the-least. Being the hurricane that was my time in Philly. Now that it is over, I have very little to show for it

I have no picture of my time in Philly that are my own.

I did not let one shutter snap on my time there.

I was not able to but …….

The faces of that time will ever stay in my mind and hart. Those of

Hector: the Porto Rican gentlemen, who always had a smile for me. Almost every Sunday night, as he swept or just ‘chilled’ on his block.

Amina: the smiling little girl who would sit with me on my stoop, when I was sad and lonely.

Kenny: tall thin happy soul that was the city, beautiful, falling apart – the incarnate definition of beautiful decay.

Winifred: like the wind

and so many more of my fellow pilgrims that filled my hart with joy and my soul with a sadness that I had never known. This all mingled with the sounds of the city night in an empty house or on roof topes with laughter and stars, where hearts were poured like an offering, mingled and lifted to haven.

These stories are to be told looking into your eye’s or kissed onto your check. Not through this madam. But some day ask me, and we will have a cup of tea or a pint, and you will hear a little bit.

But for now, know that it was a time of darkness in my soul.

and when I finally understood, there was a light – it was only seen after I left the darkness. And I pray now that I was able to do Jesus’ biding, and shine in my small corner.