For the first time in a while, I walked (pretty much) the length of my old urban parish. I was treated like a celebrity by the poor. They called out to me on nearly every block, shook my hand, asked me how it was going, said that they loved me. All except one. He reminded me that I had had him put away (not really -- the story is here:
Attacked).
OBSERVATION: It was an awkward relationship, with the poor.
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