I met Moses last night on the streets in the West Village where he is living. He lost his leg and his mother when he was thirty five, and now he is over forty with a shiny prosthetic that hurts. He carries four small plastic bags of stuff. On the street, things get stolen. Moses used to work as a carpenter; he believes in compassion; and the server at the restaurant we walked into to get him a hamburger told him she would not seat him until I made it clear he was with me and I was buying. But then the manager came over and was very nice, and when I left, he thanked me for coming. Moses’s drink of choice was water. He is trying to get disability and social security and he has been denied, but he is still trying. His next hearing is on August 5th – my fiftieth birthday. So if you have some light and love to share that day, please send them to Moses.