How can we help society's castoff children?

How we see others, what we hold as spiritually true about them, makes all the difference in our efforts to help our children.

Earlier this year, a fourteen-year-old boy appeared at the doorstep of an acquaintance of mine, whose itinerant grandson had brought him along to spend the night. The boy said his name was Trash. His real name, he explained later, was David —but his friends called him Trash.

How does a nice-looking boy come to be called Trash?

This street youngster offered briefly that his mother was dead—from taking drugs. There was no further attempt to explain, but it was obvious that here was a youth who felt he was worthless, cast off, good for nothing.

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November 18, 1991

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