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Archive - Mar 19, 2010
- Youth Stories
A place to call home
by SaskiaHere's a little background on Ron from what I know. Over the past two years Ron has lived on the streets. When I say lived, I'm talking about living and sleeping in back alleys while getting soaked in the rain, dumpster diving, smelling like the space he slept in the night before, while suffering from an addiction to crystal meth. The street has formed Ron and his lack of social skills can at times rub people the wrong way. Over the last year of knowing Ron, there has only been an occasional moment when I have seen beneath the tough skin he wears to a softer side and when it does emerge, it lasts only a second and then it's gone.
That morning I was speaking about earlier was the morning Ron walks up to me and very matter of fact, without any emotion, grumbles out the words of wanting to get on welfare and get a house. At first I'm taken aback because it was Ron asking. He's lived on the streets as long as I've known him. I wonder what the reason is behind his sudden change of character; however, I don't question his statement. I just tell him okay. Let's go down to the welfare office. (click on title to read entire posting)
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