ONE ONE ONE TWO

       It's gonna rain. I woke up with the rain headache. I did not want to zip off to the shelter kitchen. As a reward for hauling myself up, I stopped at McDonald's for breakfast biscuits for Joey and me.

       A young man opened the locked door to the inner sanctum, and I greeted our gatekeeper, as always.

       "You make my day!" he beamed.

       "I do?"

       "You always come in here like a ray of sunshine!"

        Hadda leave the pity party at the door… besides, our Angel walked up at that moment. "Hey, Angel!" I hugged him. Oh, that one does tug at my heart. What pity party? Where?

       Joey was mopping the dining room. There were a few dozen plates of cold leftovers on the stove and no sign of lunch. "What's for lunch?"

       "The usual," he grinned, nodding toward me (soup lady on call again). And I do love to make the soup, but today—oh, today—we just didn't have the right ingredients. Joey put large containers of frozen corn, peas, and pole beans on the prep table. I dug through the mystery box, but came up a bit short. Then we added half a huge can of stewed tomatoes—it just had too many frozen vegetables. They don't make good, homemade-tasting soup.

       For his part, Joey made grilled ham 'n cheese and turkey 'n cheese sandwiches. Only the pre-release folks got those (like they were special—not).

       So it's January 1st, and last night was tempting to a lot of people. Six of the shelter's homeless were thrown out, having been found to have alcohol on their breath. After all his experience with those people, Joey is still amazed when people choose a beer over a warm bed in the dead of winter. "Miss Joy, it's cold out there!"

       The pre-release weren't even allowed to go out, for fear they would be tempted.

       While we put together several dozen sack lunches, I asked Joey if our Angel ever wore his white outfit again. Are you ready for the skinny on that? I was not ready for this information. Our Angel lives in the homeless part of the shelter (he is not a pre-release federal prisoner). He was a state prisoner, and now he is free, but when he left prison, all he had was the "prison whites" on his back. He came directly to the shelter.

       This thin, frail, old man with missing teeth has hands that look 80 years old. He's reticent and thankful. Joey and I cannot imagine how such a soul wound up in prison.

       Well, as I said, lunch was way less than appetizing. I felt guilty making it; I felt guilty serving it. When anyone mentioned the food's source, Joey and I took turns blaming it on one another. The children didn't come to lunch, but I left them some cheese sticks and bubble gum for later. Mr. Huggy didn't make an appearance either.

       For next week, Joey and I talked about deep-fried salmon cakes, or beanie weenies. I'm voting for the salmon.

       Joey says he hopes this whole new year is just completely wonderful. I suggested that he might wake up every day and begin with the idea of a wonderful day, because I think we sometimes forget that whole years are made of days—some of them rainy.