Journalist, Author & Syndicated Columnist
We were at the store today picking up some groceries. A full cartload, actually. As the cashier was ringing up our items, I looked back to see an elderly gentleman holding just one object: a pie. He wasn’t impatient or annoyed, but I could see that he was tired. There were no other lanes open and I hated the idea of him having to stand there to wait for us.
A few years ago, a whole family began showing up at our house. It just seemed odd to me, especially since none of them were in costume. Then it hit me. Perhaps they were hungry and realized they could get free food (albeit candy) one day a year without getting too much flack from people.
Money isn’t the root of all evil. But not knowing what to do with it can be.
Valentine’s Day is sold as a day of romance, where you buy each other romantic gifts. And, if you’re alone, well, too bad for you. But Valentine’s Day really should be a day about love, not just romance.
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It is noon Friday. Thirty-six little heads are bowed in honor of the victims of Tuesday’s tragedy. Many of them have miniature American flags perched on their desks. These children-many of whom don’t yet like members of the opposite sex in that way-cling onto each other’s hands in solidarity. They are fifth graders at Arthur Dixon Elementary School on the South Side. Bright and articulate, they are acutely aware of this week’s events. They speak as knowledgeably about the terrorists as they do about pint-sized rap star Lil Bow Wow.