Last Sunday, I heard about a trip to the border to stand with the Central American refugees asking for asylum. As I walked across town to the Accompaniment Training for the Sanctuary Caravan, I told myself I was just curious. I wanted to support the project in some way but felt that, at 74, I was too old to fight the good fight this time. For one thing, my injured shoulder would make getting arrested really painful. And I would need a comfortable bed. I didn’t want to be an energy-drain on the group.
Source: Voyages of the Damned | Portside