All writing is a form of prayer - John Keats

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

on meeting Mom

I just received a telephone call from a prisoner in Muskegon, a young man with an IQ of 61 who has been wrongly convicted. Over the years we have been unsuccessful in helping him in any way, but he and I have become special friends. Family members rarely visit him; they're too poor. The first time I called on him it was his first visit in ten years!

"My momma is coming here from Detroit to visit me on Sunday for my birthday! She would like to meet you."

"I'm honored to be asked! I'll be in the prison waiting room."

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