The dinners this summer at Veterans Village have been going very well, thank you for asking. Each week they surprise me.
This week I stepped out of the singing laughing eating crowd of students and veterans to the porch and talked to a student of mine who also happens to be a veteran himself. The sky was dark grey, heralding a torrential rainstorm that was too lazy to actually arrive.
He told me that this wasn't what he expected, and that it was great.
Or something like that.
I agreed. The dinners get better each week.
There are video clips to support this, and pictures of laughing posing students that are posted in our Facebook group, and if you can't see them now I'll show them to you one day. Back to the story.
He asked if he could come again next week and I told him he could come to all the dinners, any and every Thursday.
And then he asked, "Who comes and feeds the Veterans the rest of the nights?"
I tell him something professorial like, That's a great question. The best question ever.
And I might have also said, "No one, they just drop off food and skid away like the Veterans are zombies," but I'm not sure.
I am sure of one thing.
Because he asked that question, because he saw -- on his own -- how much work there really is to be done, there is hope.