Did I ever tell you about that Christmas I spent in a homeless shelter?
My Christmases have not always been good ones; they also haven’t always been bad ones. Strangely, the Christmas I recall most fondly is a bit of both, from the holiday season I lived at the Salvation Army shelter in downtown Cleveland, Ohio, when I was 12.
My mom and I had moved to the shelter after we got kicked out of a nasty freeway motel at the very fringes of the suburbs where I’d spent my entire life.