During my teaching career I taught sweet, innocent little elementary school children by day.
By night I could sometimes be found out and about in the darkness visiting hidden-away places, consorting and co-mingling with the real life “Les Miserables” (miserable ones) of our world.
Many of the people I visited by night were homeless.
Many were people whom I once taught during my nearly twenty-five-year stint as the adult education instructor at the Bristol Jail.
Many of these people suffered (untreated) from some type of mental illness.
More than a few were all three of the above.
During my nightly visits over the years in our town and Tri-Cities region, exploring the darkest alleyways and unseen nooks, I sometimes came across a different subset of folks who some might refer to as prostitutes. (I was actually going to type a much harsher euphemism to describe these ladies, a word that begins with the letter “w” - which is the actual word many people use - but I don’t like to call these dear ladies derogatory names.)
I will hereby simply refer to these souls as “ladies of the night”. Sounds much more respectful. And actually much more true to the source.
Regardless of what may be one’s preconceived opinions, I personally found these ladies of the night to be - in a very big way - every bit as innocent as the little children I taught by day.
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