What a view on the world

My house faces north, in downtown Boulder, and the front of the house has a front porch.  It's an absolutely fascinating place.  There is always something interesting happening on my street.  College students come by and, seeing me, stop and visit and frequently enough wind up going to confession.  Beggars come by and tell the most unbelievable stories; some are so skilled at creating their pitch for money that you just have to give them a few bucks because of their creativity for making up such a story, or if the story is true, it is worthy of help.  Mexicans coming for some church event pour into the neighborhood, otherwise a very lily white part of downtown, and fill the air with Latino music, garrulous families with oodles of children, and cart-carrying entrepreneurs selling corn on the cob on a stick dipped in sugar, and some other sweet stuff that's too sweet for me.  They sure bring a different slice of life, and a lot of children, to our very vibrant Boulder.  Recently a man from Albania came by.  He had left Albania 20 years ago during the Balkan breakup.  He and his brother escaped by attempting to swim from the Albanian coast to the Italian coast.  While he actually made it to Italy, his brother drowned in the sea.  He didn't ask for money.  All he wanted was a pair of socks.  His feet were badly swollen and he was going to the hospital but he was embarrassed for the hospital people to see his socks. I gave him a gray pair of socks.  Also there's Lucy who comes by on her way to morning Mass.  She's a substitute teacher in the public school system.  She's always attempting to give me a woman's insight into, well, just about everything.  She sure makes a day start off right.