Article November 24, 2003 Issue

Homeward bound

By Jewel Simmons

It was nearing 4:00 on a Wednesday afternoon. I stopped by my boss's office to see if leaving in a few minutes was still a go. Although I had a 4:30 train, I wanted to stay until the last possible moment to help out. The station was just a brisk ten-minute walk away, but, not wanting to take any chances, I'd decided to splurge on a taxi.

This was no ordinary Wednesday afternoon—it was the day before Thanksgiving. I had worn a new embroidered skirt to work that day so it wouldn't get wrinkled in my backpack. I'd wear it to a Thanksgiving church service the next day. I checked my backpack one last time—a few clothes to get me through the weekend, a big scarf to wrap up with on the train, and a couple of boxes of Girl Scout cookies to share with my family.

My boss smiled kindly as I said goodbye and bolted into the street to hail a cab, happily contemplating how good it would be to see my son and husband, my mom and dad, and my brothers and their families over the holiday weekend. My spirits were soaring.