
Gratitude for a Quiet Man
I have a lot to be grateful for. In my childhood I had it worse than some, but most certainly better than many others. I grew up poor, and insecure, and it probably didn’t help that I was always a little weird. I was a short, scrawny little Mexican boy in a rural Colorado town, who up until about eight years old would sometimes go … Continue reading Gratitude for a Quiet Man