•November 29, 2017•

By Jim Nowlan
NP Guest Columnist

A year ago, the circus came to my rural county. As a youngster I loved the circus, so I wanted to make sure every kid had a chance to go. Friends and I put a few bucks together, went to a couple of help-the-poor groups and asked for names of families who could use our bucks for tickets.

Fifteen mothers called back to say they would like the assistance. I remember dropping off the tickets—which cost only $6 bucks for children; we added a little for cotton candy—for several mothers.

At their doors, the young women seemed grateful for such little help. At one beat-up home, I could see a boyfriend lounging on the sofa, just as you hear told. Miserable conditions all, and I’m told we probably didn’t reach the most desperate situations.

I am still haunted by that little experience, given my wonderful, Norman Rockwell childhood. Of course, we had the poor back then, always will have, certainly in relative terms.     Login or Subscribe to read the rest of this story.