7-6-26

I remember the night. I was fifteen years old, in my usual lost mental state.

I had just walked out on a Christian Youth Group. They wanted nothing to do with my desire to get

involved with the Civil Rights Movement in Chicago, this was around 1965. As I walked east on

Altgeld Ave., I came to the alley between Ridgeway and Lawndale, I threw my youth group book as far

down the alley as I could. For some reason I looked up, I saw the moving clouds open, a full moon appeared

in the opening. I stayed standing there until the quickly moving clouds covered the moon again. I don’t know

why, but for the first time in my life that moment … I felt I have been given permission to be here.

I have not walked a straight and narrow path, and have been lost more often than not. Never really felt in touch,

in tune, or in balance. I have however, felt moments of one. I am grateful that I have been given permission to be

here. Grateful too, that although not alone, I am able to be alone. I guess I feel like I have always been alone, even

with the love of family and friends. Maybe our love is shared, but our life is our own, and must be so.