When you get the flu, you go underground. You don't get to write any clever Christmas or New Year's posts. You are lucky to get a shower in for the day, and perhaps even luckier to remember to brush your teeth.

The flu hit two days after Christmas, as my husband Austin was recovering from his own illness, complete with 102.2 degree fever, that hit him Christmas day. And so we both went underground, and today is the first day to resurface.

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Living Open

Let's get real. Going to the Corner is not always easy. In fact, some weeks I do not want to go, and as I drive there, I wonder why I'm doing it. Sometimes, when I get there and park, and then open my car door and smell the body odor, I want to shut the door and drive away. Sometimes my heart is so heavy when I walk up to the homeless men and women gathered, I want to run and hide.

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Edward's Books

Thanks to a very generous donor, Edward got his books today! The woman who "met the need" would like to remain anonymous, but she gave me permission to tell how she found out about Edward's need.

She wanted to give back, and decided to Google for ways to do that in Dallas. She randomly came across Edward's story, was touched by it, and reached out to me. Simple as that! What a kind, generous heart! Thank you, anonymous person!!!

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Meet the Need

How does one cope with the sadness present on the streets? 

On what should have been a bright and sunny day for me—and was in fact a bright and sunny day outside—I felt heavy-hearted.

Glorious things of Thee are spoken.

It was different on the street last week with lots of “normal” people around (many wonderful volunteers came to the Corner last week). I use the term normal because we really do think of ourselves as normal and them—homeless people—as abnormal. 

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Two People, Two Stories

I think we are most beautiful when we feel most like ourselves. That sort of beauty emanates from within. It is not just outward and physical; it is tangible. You can feel it. When we feel most like ourselves, who we are radiates from us, and that is beautiful. I feel most like myself on a street corner, sitting on the dirty concrete with homeless men and women. I feel most like myself when I, on some level, forget about myself and am focused on other people—their lives, their stories.

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