I would love you to meet Sherry. I see her often, sitting outside the Royal Bank at the corner of King and Jarvis. She sits there listening to her small red radio. Sometimes I give her change. Sometimes we just chat for a bit.

I was honored to be asked to be Kevin’s godfather. His parents are longtime friends of the sort that feel like family. And on the day of his Baptism, I listened carefully when the priest asked, “And what do you ask for this child?”

The boss strolled into his office and responded to a simple “How do you do?” from one of his employees with a moan and groan about how busy he was.

Every once in a while, I am aware that I spend more money than I should on things that I really do not need. The most recent example, but not the only one, occurred not long ago when in Chicago for three weeks, waiting for the birth of a second grandchild.

I used to play volleyball at a park with my brother and a bunch of guys from his parish. We had a great time with lots of spirited play and great volleys. We thought we were getting pretty good, too.

“That’s not right,” Natalie complained when she found out her neighbor Paul was subletting three parking spaces for $80 each a month when the man who owned the spaces was leasing them to Paul for only $75 total per month. Apparently the other two parking subletters were none too happy either and started questioning Paul’s honesty.

When I was a kid a corner store opened up across the street from the public school, obviously looking for the children’s business. It sold candy and toys, the cheap but gaudy kind that attracted your allowance, all of it, without your having to ask your parents for more money.

My wife, daughters and I were at an amusement park one summer and our youngest daughter got lost. Three of us took a left at a fork in the path while 5-year-old Patti got carried along to the right with a large group of kids on a school outing. She wasn’t missing long, but it seemed like forever.

The 30-something woman broke down in the middle of the store and started bawling her eyes out in front of her friend Andrew. “I’m so unhappy,” she confided. “I hate the way I look. I hate my job. All my friends are married or coupled off. I’m so lonely and miserable.”

A father shared with me a conversation he had with his son who had just started driving. The first few times the son took the family car everything went just fine. So the father wasn’t prepared for the night his son arrived home 40 minutes late.