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Mister Director Day 52
At midnight, a serious looking teenager covered in the grit and grime of weeks of tramping and living rough came knocking impatiently on our door. He had no suitcase or package but kept on asking the same pathetic question, "Can I come in and stay with you, Mister Director?" I told him, "You will have to ask the director, Bill." The Director's bedroom was through a dark hallway, lit by a tiny red sanctuary light. We knocked and waited.
Can I Stay?
When it eventually opened, a yawning Father Bob was still searching around for his glasses. The slight little figure stood before him still asking, "Can I stay here awhile, mister?" After pulling himself together, the Director paused and then said sternly, "Where are your suitcase and your other things?" The boy's answer opened our home and our hearts to him. "Mister," he said, "this is all I am!" Many boys had already been to court for stealing and shoplifting before they arrived at our door. These were the commonest offences. We tried hard to keep them from getting into trouble again, but unfortunately, we were not always careful enough.
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