When I was a little girl, going shopping with my parents was a little scary. Because of Leon. Leon sat in his rusty wheelchair, clothed in rags, his body hunched and dirty, his smile toothless, holding a cup full of pencils for sale in his twisted hand. Most people walked right by, as if he wasn't there, though a few slipped a nickel in the cup and took a pencil. Leon scared me. But he didn't … [Read more...]