Crying For Our Weaker Sisters

     This morning at the Love Transformation Project there was a young woman with Down's syndrome.  She appeared to be well taken care of by her friends and in that I guess I would say she is lucky.  The young man with her affirmed that she was in need of pads and tampons and accepted them.  How did we reach the point in our city where she is on the streets?  How long ago did we reach it?  How many people pass her on the street every day and look the other way?  
     We made four dozen scrambled eggs this morning.  It was not enough.  There were three long tables of clothes.  It was not enough.  There were go bags with snacks and fruit.  It was not enough.  Seeing her and everyone else there on a weekly basis means confronting this fact.  It is not enough.  It never will be.  On the other hand, we met some lovely people, fed some lovely people, equipped some people to have a slightly better, warmer, safer, cleaner week.  And for that I am grateful.