to a frosty pre-dawn
Dignity Village.

It’s 25 above,
that’s minus something Celsius.
Coat and scarf is good.

The Village runs on coffee:
coffee, cigarettes and kindness.
Well, kindness most of the time.
We’ve all been on the street
cold, hungry, shunned, harassed.

On the street
you find out.

Carry everything on your back,
bike, or shopping cart.
If you have it—need it.
You’re forced to learn minimalism.
You don’t spend hours maintaining externals.
It’s freeing.
You can rehabilitate your internals,
or habilitate:

“Many of us didn’t get, or take
a full plate of ‘growing up’.
No blame, no somebody else.
Life happens.”

On the street
you find out.

Street say:
“Dignity Village repairs lives.”
”Dignity Village is fucking strict.”

The Village is self-governing
learning the true responsibilities of freedom
“…of the people, by the people, for the people.”

Self-governing is messy
finding kind, caring, honest, trustworthy fairness
“…of the people, by the people, for the people.”
But it gifts self-esteem.
No street-smart bravado,
no gang-tough enforcement,
no jailhouse mentality,
no “More than my share, IS my share.”

In the Village
you’ll find out.




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