This is part of the story of a homeless guy named DrunkBeard. He was living down by the river, sleeping under the Sumacs in little camp he had made. He was drinking, a lot. I saw him in the oddest places around town. He would come into the public meals program two or three times a week. He was always filthy from living outside and wood smoke was the most pleasant smell he carried. Living outside might have been okay in the summer, but in the autumn it started to rain.

And it rained. Oh my, how it rained.

He came into the public meals program soaking wet, miserable, worn down and broken into pieces. He was crying. His hands shook. We got a hot meal into him, we got him into a bed for a couple of nights; the latter task is not as easy as it sounds. After living outside for months the indoors is an alien, strange and frightening place to sleep. I remember him talking to me and another staffer about the joys of living down by the river; he was commenting on the beauty of seeing the sunrise every morning, about how much joy he found in the chipmunks and birds that came into his camp. He was also, he admitted, cold and hungry and tired - so very tired.

I don't know how he did it - most likely with the help of Social Services - but he managed to get a room. He cleaned up. He didn't get sober right away - and he's pretty much on a pendulum ride as far as sobriety is concerned - but he's doing a lot better than he has in all the time I've known him. He looks better. He sounds better.

Today I slipped out in the afternoon and bought him a bible. I found a really nice leather bookmark with the Footprints poem on it and bought it for him. That poem takes a bad rap from a lot of folks, but I remember a time that was really difficult in my life. I had that poem on a little wallet sized card that I kept in my day planner at work. I would take it out and read it about a dozen times a day. That little poem helped me to hang on. I told him about that when I gave it to him just before dinner tonight. In the front of the bible I wrote the date and "Thank you for being my friend," because he is, and I'm grateful.

I said this was just a part of DrunkBeard's story because there's no telling what happens next. He could get drunk one more time and blow off everything he's accomplished. There are no guarantees. But today, I gave him a bible. That means we had a pretty good day - at least as far as I'm concerned.