She was just an old lady who lived next door. I’d wave and smile and give a nice hello but nothing more.

They’re usually poor people, sometimes considered the flotsam of society, always in the way at the grocery store,

It’s a matter of beans, says Rosie, 79, legally blind, her fingers dancing across a Bible in braille, when a reporter asks her about

Two men running for office disagree about everything but have one thing in common. They won’t release their tax returns.

She speaks the truth as she always has in 40 years of marriage especially when she’s lost in making dinner

An old guy on the subway with a lunch bucket tells a young lady with a brief case Bernie hasn’t got a chance.

Every evening, up in my rooom, I try to finish a poem but Chicago is hot and it’s better outside,

On Saturday mornings several bowed citizens gather on the sidewalk outside the clinic to read the Bible and pray.

We worry so much because we’re nice people. We want to find a way to feed the poor house the poor

Mrs. O’Malley from across the alley has another small job for my father to do which makes my mother

I’m on my way to Larry’s Place, a food pantry in the city. I park a block away because parking in front of Larry’s isn’t wise even if one drives

The two religions differ in a number of ways Insha’Allah! Alleluia! There’s a radical difference especially in their martyrs.

In a storefront laundry on North Clark Street brown draperies release this quiet man who has my shirts.

Story in the paper this morning almost ruined breakfast. In a rural county far from where… the natives shoot stray dogs on si… In my city, an agency picks up str…