Every spring we drop off boxes of food at CALL Primrose.
On Friday the office was noisy; volunteers, recipients, and supplies crowded against each other in the small Burlingame office.
One lady waited patiently for a 10-pound bag of rice. At another desk I saw a family submit an application for services.
Having had a tough week, I left the offices with the usual feeling: my life ain't so bad.
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