I’ve been home in Woodbine for three years now after many years of drifting around the country. I had a good year, and I’m looking forward to a mighty fine Christmas time.
I met a nice lady at the church house. Like me, she wasted some of her lifetime but has gotten herself together. I met her when she was serving mac and cheese on the food line at the Full Time Gospel Church.
My sister’s daughter, who I’m raising while she is otherwise occupied for a few years, is happy to have a mother figure in her life. The little child has learned her alphabet from watching Open Sesame Street on the television and dances up a storm.
Most of my Christmas wishes from last year have come true. I came into a slice of money with a winning lottery scratch off. I bought my self a 1970 deuce and a quarter. It’s got a lot of mile on the clock, but it runs well, and it’s a ride I always wanted to own.
Again, I ‘m playing the sax at the church musical night, this year “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.” The more I settle down here and make myself a member of the community, the happier I get.
Like everybody, my life isn’t perfect. My health has suffered a bit with the doctor telling me I got a case of the sugar. The same disease affected my mother’s eye vision and took off her toe.
The doctor told me to give up drinking the apple jack, too. I had a case of tetter, but it’s clearing up.
The Reverend has been directing my path down the straight and narrow. People have been talking about seven starts but I must ber on my fifth start.
So for everyone, a Merry Christmas, and whatever you do, keep looking up and don’t lose your hope.
Porter writes from Woodbine.
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