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compassion for others. “That’s Emily’s bed,” Mary said, pointing to the bed by the wall. Tom knelt down so Emily could climb off of his back. When he turned around she threw her arms around his neck. “Goodnight, Tom,” she said. Tom voice quivered as he spoke. “Goodnight, Emily.” He walked to the door looking down, not wanting to meet Mary’s glance at him. “Goodnight, Mrs. Harris,” he said as he left the tiny apartment. “Goodnight, Tom,” she called after him. “And thank you.” Tom just nodded as he turned to walk down the cool hallway toward the main door. What had happened tonight bothered him more than he could remember anything ever bothering him before. Walking down the dimly lit street with houses and apartments that should have been condemned didn’t help. He thought of his own nice house and everything he had. “Never again,” Tom thought to himself, “will I be so quick to judge someone else.” 52