Monday, November 21, 2016

TRUTH ACCORDING TO MICHAEL soon to be released in Spanish!




LA VERDAD SEGÚN MICHAEL

«La verdad y la realidad son tan solo percepciones personales de las cosas que vemos, oímos o sentimos».

Una novela sobre un hombre adicto al amor. Una historia basada en hechos reales que recorre los 33 años de la vida de Michael Nicolau. El argumento nos adentra en el largo camino que Michael recorre en busca de su alma y nos ayuda a comprender las circunstancias que le llevaron a acabar siendo un hombre sin hogar viviendo en Bowery Mission, un refugio de Nueva York. Deseoso por defenderse y por justificar sus actos, Michael habla de su vida durante horas, día tras día a un trabajador social de Bowery Mission. Siendo al mismo tiempo cómico y trágico, héroe y villano, Michael echa un pulso a los conceptos de verdad, realidad, esperanza, fe, amor y honor.

Traducido por Maria Gil del Campo

CITAS

«Percibimos las cosas de diferente forma. Para ti comulgar con Jesús significa gritar a los cuatro vientos elogios hacia el Señor. Para mí, sin embargo, es una experiencia mística profunda e íntima. Para ti, vivir cumpliendo con la palabra de Dios significa tener una vida sin altibajos y con todo bien controlado, no fumar, no beber y obedecer sus órdenes bíblicas lo más estrictamente posible. Para mi, sin embargo, vivir cumpliendo con la palabra de Dios significa intentar encontrar mi verdadero camino y mi destino. Aprender quién soy, por qué estoy aquí y qué es lo que Dios quiere de mí, qué es lo que quiere que haga. Para conseguir todo eso, hay veces que hay que indagar en los más profundo de esos libros mágicos y ocultos que, con mucha facilidad, tú desprestigias».
«El único libro que necesitas, Michael, es la Biblia. Todo está escrito ahí. Todas las respuestas que busques. Pero tienes que leerla con el corazón y no con la mente. Todos esos libros no hacen más que confundirte y nublar tu mente».
«No comparto tu opinión. No puedo creer que esté escuchando eso de un pastor del siglo XXI. ¿Estás seguro de que no has llegado aquí con algún tipo de máquina del tiempo y de que vienes recién llegado de la era de la inquisición?». 

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«Sabes, Pastor, la cocción es un verdadero arte. Sobre todo la del pan. Tiene algo divino. Es pura alquimia. Y es que se juntan en este proceso todos los elementos alquímicos: la harina, que viene de la Tierra y representa lo material; el agua con la que mezclas la harina para hacer la masa; el aire que suelta la fermentación de la levadura que hace que la masa aumente; y el fuego que posibilita que el pan se cueza. Es fantástico. Además, el aroma a pan horneándose es la fragancia más placentera que pueden percibir nuestros sentidos. Pastor, piensa en lo que te digo durante un instante. Cualquier aroma de comida que nos guste, no importa cuánto, desaparece después de un tiempo, abrimos y cerramos las ventanas de la cocina para que el olor no se meta en el salón. Con cualquier olor pasa esto. Con todos menos con el olor a pan horneado. ¿Alguna vez has escuchado a alguien quejarse por este olor? ¡A nadie, pastor! Nadie. Oyes a la gente quejarse por que sus vecinos están friendo pescado, asando cerdo o salchichas, pero nadie se queja por el olor a pan horneado. ¿Sabes por qué? Porque es un olor divino. Un olor mágico. Y eso es lo que tiene el arte de la magia».


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«Todo el mundo debería escribir algún libro. Hay un libro dentro de cada uno de nosotros. Es cuestión de ponerse. Algunas personas son capaces y otras no» (Capítulo 20).

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«[...] para que ocurran milagros, Dios necesita de nuestra cooperación. Como el Pastor Charles me dijo una vez, Dios puede lanzarnos una cuerda para salvarnos, pero somos nosotros los que tenemos que cogerla». 

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«[...] el hecho de dejar un libro atrás, hace que tus pensamientos se mantengan vivos en este mundo para siempre. Así que, en cierto modo, tu espíritu nunca muere. Es la mejor forma de conseguir la inmortalidad». 

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«Creo que tanto nuestras vidas, como las direcciones que estas deben seguir, están predestinadas. Haciendo uso de nuestra propia voluntad y de nuestras elecciones, no hacemos más que tomar una de las muchas opciones que ya están predestinadas. Aparentemente nos parece que estamos tomando una decisión, pero en realidad no hacemos otra cosa que elegir de entre todas las posibilidades que ya forman parte de nuestro destino». 

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«Nunca volveré a mirar a las personas sin hogar del mismo modo que lo hacía antes de entrar en Bowery Mission». 

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«Todo el mundo debería escribir algún libro. Hay un libro dentro de cada uno de nosotros. Es cuestión de ponerse. Algunas personas son capaces y otras no» (Capítulo 20).


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«No, ‘quizás’ no es la palabra, ¡definitivamente es el adverbio que más se ajusta! En mi ciudad, en Haití, tenemos una expresión que se traduce por algo así como "un hombre que piensa con el pene". Eso es lo que más te define, Michael. No quiero decir que seas adicto al sexo o a la pornografía. No eres para nada un pervertido. ¡Todo lo contrario! Eres, simplemente, demasiado sensible con las mujeres. Te enamoras en un abrir y cerrar de ojos y basas todas tus decisiones en tus pasiones hacia la mujer en cuestión. Tu mente se nubla ya que no te llega la sangre suficiente al cerebro. Y tu corazón bombea toda la sangre hacia el lado contrario, por eso te conviertes en un hombre que piensa con el pene» (Capítulo 7).


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«Michael, hay personas que simplemente están confundidas con respecto a su sexualidad, personas que intentan aclararse a ese respecto. Hay otras que se declaran bisexuales; no significa que estuviera intentando engañarte. Simplemente, debía estar muy confundida». 

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«[...] no podemos predecir nuestras vidas. Dios es el único que todo lo sabe y todo lo ve. Simplemente podemos intentar dar lo mejor de nosotros mismos y seguir el camino que pone a nuestros pies. Las cosas no siempre salen como queremos, aunque hagamos las cosas bien. Incluso cuando seguimos la palabra de Dios, hay veces que él no contesta a nuestras plegarias de la forma que esperamos. Y no es cosa nuestra el cuestionar su forma de razonar al respecto; debemos tener fe en su sabiduría». 

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«Dios quiere que seas sincero y humilde contigo mismo y con los demás. Él te hizo bueno y trabajador; sin embargo, no siempre podrás beneficiarte de eso si siempre acabas tropezando con tu orgullo». 

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«Soprendentemente no se sentía culpable por separarse de su pasado. Hace 5 años escuchó claramente en su sueño un mensaje que el arcángel Michael le había traído del Todopoderoso. El mensaje le decía que debía despertar y dejar todo atrás; que su lugar no estaba allí, que era el momento de irse a buscar su verdadero ser y su destino. 
Ahora, 5 años después, estaba sentado en la capilla de Bowery, era un hombre roto por dentro y sin hogar que aún seguía buscando lo que debía encontrar. Sin embargo, no se arrepentía de nada de lo que había hecho en los últimos 5 años. En su mente no estaba su realización propia. Creía sinceramente que rendía su deseo al de Dios y que todo lo que le pasara, fuera bueno o malo, le había pasado por alguna razón. Era lo que Dios quería para él. Ese era su destino. Solo tenía que saber por qué». 

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«Hasta dónde podemos llegar con nuestra libertad de consciencia, sin ofender a Dios y sin alterar el curso natural de las cosas...».

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«A veces se veía como un elefante entrando a una tienda de todo a cien , arrasando con todo lo que encontraba en su camino y esperando que la gente no se enfadara con el daño provocado, si no que admirase su fortaleza y aguante». 

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«Iba detrás de una mujer pensando que la clave estaba en ella. Pero la clave está en escribir sobre ella. En las palabras, y las palabras están dentro de mí. Desearla es solo un impulso para que emanen las palabras. Y el objetivo principal es que fluyan. Las palabras son importantes. Palabras sobre el amor. Palabras sobre la vida». 

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«No sé por qué estoy haciendo esto. Todo el mucho dice cosas horribles sobre ti. Vayas donde vayas, hagas lo que hagas, siempre das qué hablar. A pesar de todo respeto tu coraje por perseguir tus ideales sin importarte nada más. Los hombres como tú mueven el mundo. Sé que el camino por el que vas está lleno de obstáculos. Pero también sé que es el camino hacia el éxito». 

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«Creo que tanto nuestras vidas, como las direcciones que estas deben seguir, están predestinadas. Haciendo uso de nuestra propia voluntad y de nuestras elecciones, no hacemos más que tomar una de las muchas opciones que ya están predestinadas. Aparentemente nos parece que estamos tomando una decisión, pero en realidad no hacemos otra cosa que elegir de entre todas las posibilidades que ya forman parte de nuestro destino».

«¿No piensas que Dios es lo suficientemente poderoso como para hacernos creer que somos nosotros los que tomamos nuestras propias decisiones, cuando en realidad es él quién las toma por nosotros?». 

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«La realidad es que Michael era una persona arrogante y egoísta. Nunca había respetado nada ni a nadie. Hiciera lo que hiciese, nunca estaba feliz. Siempre le faltaba algo que le hacía dejar todo atrás y desaparecer sin saber por qué». 

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«¿Has pensado alguna vez en escribir tus memorias? Eres escritor y quizás sería interesante que la gente leyera tus memorias».

«Odio las memorias. Pero estoy seguro de que escribiré un libro sobre Bowery Mission».

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«Sabes, Michael —le decía el pastor Charles a menudo—, hay hombres que se colocan y hacen verdaderos desastres mientras están bajo los efectos de las drogas. Otros beben y se comportan como animales bajo los efectos del alcohol. Tú, Michael, te enamoras y pierdes los sentidos. Es lo mismo que estar colocado. También eres un adicto. Un adicto a las mujeres, pero no en el sentido sexual o pornográfico. El sexo es solo una parte. Se trata del amor. Eres adicto a enamorarte. Y el único remedio para tu adicción es el amor absoluto, el amor por y para Dios. Céntrate en Dios, Michael. Él te quiere. Demuéstrale tu amor  y te curarás».


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«¿Por qué deseas tanto ese nuevo comienzo? ¿Piensas que pospondrá el final? ¿Tienes miedo del final? ¿Tienes miedo a la muerte, Michael?» (Capítulo 35).


Friday, November 18, 2016

WEEKEND IN FARO IN SPANISH


WEEKEND IN FARO, a novel by Stevan V. Nikolic, the first book in the Michael Nicolau Series, has been translated into Spanish by Maria Gil del Campo and published by Babelcube Inc. under title 5 DÍAS ME SEPARAN DE TU CUERPO Y MI ALMA. The same translator is currently translating Truth According to Michael, the second book in the same Series, due to be published in February 2017.

Maria Gil del Campo, a translator from Madrid, Spain, holds a degree in Modern Languages and Translation and Master's degree in Mediation, Translation and Interpreting in Public Services from the University of Alcalá. To learn more, please visit Maria’s Blog.

 5 DÍAS ME SEPARAN DE TU CUERPO Y MI ALMA is available in paperback from amazon.com and as an e-book from Barnes&Noble, Kobo, Apple iBook,  agapea.com, and Scribd.

5 DÍAS ME SEPARAN DE TU CUERPO Y MI ALMA es una novela de Stevan V. Nikolic y conforma el primer libro de la serie que tiene por protagonista a Michael Nicolau. Babelcube Inc. es la editorial encargada de su publicación. LA VERDAD SEGÚN MICHAEL, el segundo libro, está en pleno proceso de traducción y verá la luz en febrero de 2017. La traductora María Gil del Campo ha sido la elegida para llevar a cabo ambas traducciones.

María Gil del Campo, traductora madrileña, posee un grado en Lenguas Modernas y Traducción y un Máster en Comunicación Intercultural, Traducción e Interpretación en los Servicios Públicos, ambos otorgados por la Universidad de Alcalá. Para conocer más sobre María, visite su perfil de Linkedin.


 5 DÍAS ME SEPARAN DE TU CUERPO Y MI ALMA está disponible en formato papel en amazon.com y en formato electrónico en Barnes&Noble, Kobo, Apple iBookagapea.com, and Scribd.

Thursday, September 29, 2016

HOMELESSNESS AND ADDICTION


Based on the true events, just published novel TRUTH ACCORDING TO MICHAEL by Stevan V. Nikolic tells us the story about homeless men in New York, their addictions, and the road to recovery.

In 2016, homelessness in New York City has reached the highest levels since the Great Depression (1930). The number of homeless people sleeping each night in the municipal shelters is now 87 percent higher than it was ten years ago. According to official information, in July 2016, there were 60,456 homeless people, including 15,156 homeless families with 23,425 homeless children, sleeping each night in the New York City municipal shelter system. Besides them, unnumbered thousands of unsheltered homeless people sleep on New York City streets, in the subway system, and in other public spaces.

Among many shelters in New York City that offers refuge, food, shower, clothing, and recovery program to homeless New Yorkers, the Bowery Mission in Lower Manhattan is one of the oldest and best known. Every day, hundreds of people with nowhere else to go, pass through the distinctive red doors of The Bowery Mission Chapel for a hot meal or other services.

Regardless of the circumstances that brought them through the red doors, each is welcomed and served a meal with the care that reflects God’s love to them and respect for their dignity. For many, who join the Bowery Mission recovery program, this is the beginning of the new life and reintegration into society as individuals able to live independently and provide for themselves and their families.

Each of the man entering the Bowery Mission has its own story. Just published novel Truth According to Michael by Stevan V. Nikolic, bring us one such story. Based on the true events, this novel follows thirty-three years in the life of Michael Nicolau. The story takes us on the long path of Michael’s soul-searching and understanding of circumstances that brought him to become a homeless man living in the Bowery Mission. Eager to vindicate himself and his conduct, he speaks about his life, for hours, day after day, to a counselor in the Mission. At the same time comic and tragic, villain and hero, Michael is wrestling with the concepts of truth, reality, hope, faith, love, and honor.

In thirty-five chapters, the author successfully juggles two parallel stories - one of Michael’s life and character; and the other, of the daily life in the Bowery Mission and destinies of men living together and fighting the entrapments of poverty, homelessness, and addiction.

Truth According to Michael is the second book in the Michael Nicolau Series and is available in paperback, hardcover, and e-book formats at AmazonBarnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, and other online booksellers in the US and worldwide.

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Truth According to Michael QUOTES


“…we cannot predict our lives. Only God Almighty knows and sees it all. We can only do our best and follow the path that He places under our feet. Things don’t always turn out the way we want, even if we do everything right. Even if we live by the word of God, He will not always answer our prayers the way we expect. And it is not our place to question God’s reasoning behind it, but only to have faith in His wisdom.”  (Ch.4)

“God wants you to be truthful and humble to yourself and others. He made you good and industrious, but you can’t benefit from it if you always stumble on pride.” (Ch.4)

“…leaving a book behind keeps your thoughts alive in this world forever. So, in some ways, your spirit never dies. It is the best way to achieve immortality.” (Ch.20)

“…everybody should write one book. There is a book in each of us. It is just a matter of bringing it out. Some people are capable and willing to do that, some are not.” (Ch.20)

“Strangely enough, he didn’t feel any guilt for separating himself from his past. Five years ago, he clearly heard in his dream a message brought to him by Archangel Michael from the God Almighty, telling him he should get up and leave everything behind; that his place was not there; that it was time to go in search for his true self and for his true destiny.
         Now, five years after, he was sitting in the Bowery chapel, a broken and homeless man, still trying to find that which he was looking for. But he didn’t regret anything he had done in those five years. In his mind, it wasn’t his doing. He sincerely believed that he surrendered his own will to the will of God and that everything that happened to him, good or bad, had to happen for some reason. It was God’s doing.  It was his destiny.  He just had to figure out why.” (Ch.23)

“How far we can go with our liberty of conscience, without offending God, and disturbing the natural order of things…” (Ch.27)

“Sometimes, he thought of himself as an elephant walking through the china store, breaking everything in his path and still expecting people not to be angry with the damage he made, but rather to admire his strength and his endurance.” (Ch.32)

“I was going after a woman believing that the key is in being with her. But the key is in writing about her. The key is in words and words are in me. Longing for her is just an impulse for words to come out. And the whole purpose is for words to come out. Words are important. Words about love. About life.” (Ch.35)

“I don’t know why I am doing this. Everybody is saying bad things about you. Wherever you go, whatever you do, there is a noise after you… In spite of everything, I respect your courage to go after your ideals, no matter what. Men like you make this world move. I know that the road you go is covered with thorns. But I also know that it must be a road to the stars.” (Ch.35)

“Why do you want so much this new beginning? Do you think the new beginning will postpone the end? Are you afraid of the end? Are you afraid of death Michael?” (Ch.35)

Friday, September 23, 2016

SEEKING REVIEWS FOR A NOVEL

I'd love to offer my latest book Truth According to Michael to all readers interested to read and
provide an honest review. You can download any e-book format from smashwords.com https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/659892 by applying free book coupon code JV24M    
till October 21st 2016. I would appreciate your reviews posted on the bloggers site as well as Goodreads, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever possible.

BASED ON THE TRUE STORY. A NOVEL ABOUT THE MAN ADDICTED TO LOVE.

The second book in the Michael Nicolau Series follows thirty-three years in the life of Michael Nicolau. The story takes us on the long path of Michael’s soul-searching and understanding of circumstances that brought him to become a homeless man living in the Bowery Mission, a New York City shelter. Eager to vindicate himself and his conduct, he speaks about his life, for hours, day after day, to a counselor in the Bowery Mission. At the same time comic and tragic, villain and hero, Michael is wrestling with the concepts of truth, reality, hope, faith, love, and honor.

Now available as paperback, hardcover, and e-book in all formats on amazon.comBarnes&Noble,    Smashwords,  iBookstoreKobo, and other participating online retailers worldwide.

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

A NOVEL ALL MEN UNDER FIFTY SHOULD READ (BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE)


A story all men under fifty should read (before it’s too late)!
Now available as paperback, hardcover, and e-book in all formats on

 and other participating online retailers worldwide.



The second book in the Michael Nicolau Series follows thirty-three years in the life of Michael Nicolau. The story takes us on the long path of Michael’s soul-searching and understanding of circumstances that brought him to become a homeless man living in the Bowery Mission, a New York City shelter. Eager to vindicate himself and his conduct, he speaks about his life, for hours, day after day, to a counselor in the Bowery Mission. At the same time comic and tragic, villain and hero, Michael is wrestling with the concepts of truth, reality, hope, faith, love, and honor.
“Truth and reality are just our personal perceptions of the things and conditions we see, hear, and feel.”


THE BOWERY MISSION


From the book TRUTH ACCORDING TO MICHAEL by Stevan V. Nikolic, Chapter Three


       He was relieved that after so many days, he was going to take a shower, have something to eat and have a safe place to sleep. But six months looked very long for him to be cut off from the outside world. He promised Eliza that he will bring her to New York by the end of the month.
       “What will I say to her? he was thinking. He didn’t have the means now to contact her anyway. And for six months he wouldn’t be able to look for a job or a way out of his situation. It seemed like such a long time. But he knew that he had to go one day at a time.
       “For now, I am safe. Mid-March and the weather in New York is like winter in full swing. It is so cold. It is good to be here for now,” he thought. “Gives me time to think about what to do next.”
       The stocky man in the t- shirt came back.
       “Hi guys, my name is Mike. You are Victor and Michael, right?”
       “I am Victor.” The man with the big afro said.
       “And you are Michael, like me?”
       Michael just nodded his head.
       “You are now the fourth Michael in the program. There are two more here. I will take you guys down to the clothing room to find something clean to wear, and then to the showers. I understand that you will be staying in the chapel for a couple of nights. It is not that bad of a deal. It is better than outside. I heard that two students are leaving today from my floor. Maybe, you’ll get lucky and sleep in a bed tomorrow.”
       They went down the narrow staircase from the second floor back to the reception hall, and from there through the Chapel, they continued to the basement of the Mission.
       On the left side of the long basement hall, with walls and ceiling painted in gray, was the clothing room door. Further down the hall were shower rooms. All three of them, led by Mike, entered the clothing room.
       The clothing room was a large basement space lit with neon lights and painted white. Alongside one longer wall were metal shelves filled with folded clothing up to the high ceiling. On another side, were clothing racks with coats, suits, and shirts. Lined in the middle were long folding tables covered with piles of unfolded clothing.
       “Rick, these are new students. They are going to take showers, so they need a change of clothing. Can you help them?”
       “Do they have clothing requisition slips?” the skinny old man, hardly five feet tall, with gray hair, and a strong West Indian accent, asked.
       “No, Rick. They are not assigned beds yet, so they will come with slips later. They just need one change of clothing for now.”
       “Okay. Here are underwear and socks.” Rick started pointing with his hand around the room. “Here are pants and t- shirts. On other side are dress shirts and jackets. Over there are sweaters. Over here are towels and toiletries. Take one of each for now and when you get a clothing requisition slip, come back and I’ll give you more. If you need shoes or sneakers, they are here, on the shelves. Try to find your size. Toiletry sets are on that table. Each contains razor, toothpaste and toothbrush, and a soap.”
       Once they got clean clothing, Mike showed them where the showers were. Michael threw his worn underwear, socks, and shoes in the garbage.
       “Hey man, this really stinks. How long you went without a shower?” Mike asked.
       “Almost two weeks. I spent the last ten days sleeping on the subway.” Michael answered.
       “No wonder it stinks.”
      Michael couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed a shower that much. He kept rubbing himself with soap, trying to remove the stench that got into his skin and his nostrils.
       After the shower, Mike took them to the Manager’s Office to introduce them to the Manager on duty, showed them the dining hall, and returned them to the chapel.
       “Dinner will be in an hour and a half after the evening service here in the chapel. When service is finished, you just go to the dining hall and get in line with the other students. For now, you can stay here.”
       “Mike, can I go out and have a smoke?” Victor asked.
       “Well, maybe, this is your last chance. You are not assigned a bed, so you are not technically in the program yet. If you have a cigarette, smoke it now because later you won’t be able to. And go around the corner, not in front of the building. Students are not allowed to smoke.”
       Victor turned and looked at Michael. “Do you want to go out too?”
       “I don’t have a cigarette. Can you spare one?”
       “I have two last ones. May as well smoke them. Come.”
       They walked out of the Chapel through the main red door. In front of the Chapel, along the building wall, all the way to the corner, a line of homeless people waiting to enter the Chapel had already formed. Victor and Michael went around the corner to the end of the line, stood on the side under the street light pole, and lit up cigarettes.
       “This feels good,” Michael was thinking. “I am clean, in clean clothing, have a place to sleep tonight, and soon I will eat.”
       “Can you spare a cigarette?” Michael heard behind his back.
       A chubby girl, not more than twenty years old, with curly blond hair, a pale face with red cheeks from the cold, and smudged bright red lipstick approached Michael from the back of the soup kitchen line. “So, can you give me a smoke?” she repeated.
       “This is my last cigarette,” Michael answered.
       “Listen, bro, don’t be stingy. I’ll suck your dick for a smoke.”
       “Sorry, I really don’t have another cigarette,” Michael said and turned towards Victor and away from the girl.
       “Oh, what a faggot,” the girl said and went back in the line.
       Victor started laughing. “You see, man, if I didn’t give you my last cigarette, she’d be sucking my dick now.”
       Michael couldn’t believe what he just heard from this homeless girl. How desperate she was, that she would perform oral sex to a complete stranger for one single cigarette. “How tragic is the world I just entered,” Michael thought.
       That night Michael was sleeping on the mat on the tiled floor of the Bowery Chapel. Besides him and Victor, the only other person there was a homeless guy named Francis. He wasn’t in the program, but he was almost a regular guest at the Bowery Mission. Everybody there knew his story and felt bad for him, so sometimes they allowed him to sleep in the Chapel even if it wasn’t very cold outside.
       Until five years ago, Francis was a young and ambitious adjunct professor of American History at Baruch College. His colleagues were predicting a bright future in higher education for this upbeat and very talented black man. He managed to rise up and out from his poor childhood in the Bronx projects to become a respected educator. Francis was married and had a two-year-old son. Then one day, in a freak hit and run accident, on Queens Boulevard, his wife and son were struck down and killed. Francis had a nervous breakdown, got hooked on drugs and alcohol and soon after ended up on the streets of Manhattan, wandering around all year around, year after year, sometimes almost naked, covered in his own feces, and refusing any help. The only place he would come for an occasional meal or shower was the Bowery Mission.
       Michael was lying down, covered with a blanket, and looking at Francis walking up and down the aisles of the Chapel, mumbling to himself in some strange tongue that Michael could not understand. The light in the Chapel was dimmed and Francis, with his tall and very skinny body, looked almost surreal to Michael. He was barefoot, with ripped Docker pants and no shirt at all. His short black hair looked like strong thick brush coming out of his skull.  His feet were sliding over the red Chapel tiles silently, and it appeared to Michael like he was not walking but floating.
       “Don’t worry about him, he is crazy, but he will not harm you,” Victor, who was lying on the mat a few feet away, said to Michael.  “I’ve seen him before. He is a lost case. Only God knows how he is still alive.”
       Soon after, Michael fell asleep. He was really tired after so many nights on the subway trains. Finally, he felt safe. He knew that he needed a break, a place to renew his strength and time to figure out what to do next. The Bowery Mission was his only choice, and it looked to him like the right one as well.
      Michael didn’t know what time it was when he was awakened by something very light falling on his face. He opened his eyes and saw Francis standing over him with a rose stem in one hand. With the other hand, he was picking petals from the half dry red rose bud and tossing them at Michael. While wiggling back and forth with his upper body, he was chanting with a screechy voice,
       “Wake up, wake up, the end of times is coming,
         Wake up, wake up, Santa Maria is waiting,
         Wake up, wake up, soldier of Christ Almighty,
         Wake up, wake up, Mother of God is crying.”
       Michael looked around. All over his blanket and around the mat were dry rose petals. He jumped into a sitting position and said, “What the fuck is wrong with you, man?”
        Francis turned around fast and ran to the back of the Chapel while screeching: “He is awake! He is awake! He is awake!” He ran out of the Chapel through the side doors leading to the entrance of the Mission.
        A few minutes later, a man dressed in a neatly ironed white shirt with tie and black dress pants entered the Chapel.
       “Let’s go, guys,” He said. “It is time to get up. The Chapel will be open soon for morning service. You can go downstairs to the bathroom to shave and wash and then come back here for the service. After that is breakfast. And take your mats and blankets downstairs with you. Leave them behind the stairs. You may need them tonight again if you don’t get beds assigned to you today.”
       Michael looked at this man. It was the same manager that he was introduced to by Mike last night. The light-skinned black man, with a completely shaved head, glasses with golden metal frame. With a large shiny watch on his wrist, and his medium build, a bit overweight, and a limp, he looked more like a Bronx car salesman than a manager of the homeless shelter.
      Victor and Michael went back to the same bathroom they took their showers in the night before. Michael took a shower again. He still felt the stench on his skin from his days on the subway.
       Victor was running a pick through his hair. 
       “So Michael, what brought you here? You don’t look to me like an addict, he asked.
      “I left my wife, made a few bad business decisions and lost money, fooled around with women, drank more than I should, pretty much messed up my life and one day found myself on the N train without money, friends, or a place to go.”
       “Yeah, that would do it…,” Victor said. “Sometimes I think that guys like you have it worse than guys like me. God gave you something and then he took it away. So it hurts badly. I grew up in the projects, never knew my father. My mother was constantly high and disappeared when I was twelve. I grew up with my aunt. Never finished high school. Been using drugs since I was fourteen. In and out of jails and shelters forever. This is my third time here. Never had a wife to leave; never had a business to lose. And I always say to God – better don’t give me anything if you gonna take it away from me.”
       Then he stopped fixing his hair, turned towards Michael and said with a broken voice: “But he always finds a way. Always… Two days ago, my only baby sister overdosed in front of my eyes, with the needle I gave her. I still see her lying there, her eyes wide open. That is why I came here. I need to break this circle. There must be a better life out there. I need to clean out. I am tired of this.”
        Michael didn’t say anything. He just looked at Victor. He never met anybody like him. Never knew anybody from the projects. The closest, he came to stories like this one was on the local evening news. And now he will spend the next six months with people with similar stories.
      They went back to the chapel. It was already full of homeless people who came to have breakfast at the Bowery. The way it worked was that everybody would enter the Chapel, listen for an hour to a sermon by the Pastor or a guest preacher, testimonials by the students who completed the recovery program, and then they would, in an orderly fashion, go to the large dining room where the meal was served. It was the same routine for all meals: breakfast at six in the morning, lunch at noon, and dinner at six in the evening. Students in the program were sitting on the chapel balcony during the service, and had their meals before the homeless people from outside.
       Michael and Victor climbed up a narrow wooden staircase to the chapel balcony. There were about eighty other men there already. They were all different ages and of different origins. From twenty to over sixty years of age, most of them were black or Latino, with a dozen white and a couple of Asian men. “The real New York in small.” Michael was thinking.
       The Pentecostal preacher who spoke that morning was a novelty for Michael as well. Before in his life, he attended many different Christian Churches, but they were all mainstream traditional denominations: Orthodox Christian, Catholic, Anglican, Presbyterian, and Lutheran. But he was never in a Baptist or Pentecostal Church, and never met any of newborn Christians.  He couldn’t hear everything the preacher was saying because of the bad sound system, but he heard a Bible verse that the preacher repeated several times: “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” It was Jeremiah 29:11.
        After the service, the students went to the dining hall. It was a large room with fifteen round tables each seating ten, and with the serving line and kitchen in the back. Breakfast that morning was simple, oatmeal and fresh bananas. Michael took his plate with oatmeal and looked around the hall to find Victor and sit next to him.
       Victor appeared with a cup of milk from somewhere.
       “Do you want some milk in your oatmeal? It will cool it down. It’s too hot.”
       “Sure,” Michael replied.
       “So, you guys are new here?” A chubby young man with thick glasses sitting across from Michael asked. Michael looked at him. He couldn’t figure out if this kid was Latino or white, but he couldn’t be more than twenty years old, Michael thought. His thick greasy hair was dark brown, almost black, but his eyes were blue and he had red chicks and pale white face.
       “Yes, we came last night,” Michael said. 
        “Do you have beds yet?” The kid asked.
        “No, we slept in the chapel last night. They say maybe something will be available today.” Michael answered.
       “Oh, by the way, my name is Jeremiah.”
       “Michael,” Michael responded and nodded his head.
       “I’m Victor,” Victor mumbled trying to swallow a mouthful of oatmeal.
       “There are two guys going from the second floor to the fourth or fifth floor today, I think,” Jeremiah continued, “All new guys are given a room on the second floor the first month. After that, they move to either the fourth or fifth floor. Those rooms are bigger and they have seating areas. I am still on the second floor. I came two weeks ago.”
       “Good morning.” Rick, the old man from the clothing room came and sat at their table. “How’s your first night at Bowery?”  he asked Victor and Michael.
       “We were with Francis in the Chapel. He was walking up and down the aisle all night,” Victor answered.
       “That lunatic, I don’t know why they allow him to spend nights here. I think the Mission director has a soft spot for him. He is allowed to do many things that nobody else can do,” Rick said. “The other day I gave him pants before a shower, and he threw them back into my face while yelling ‘bad man, bad man.’ I don’t know why he called me a bad man, I didn’t do anything, just gave him pants.”
      “Oh, he lives in his own world. Who knows what is in his head,” Jeremiah said.
      “Hello, gentlemen,” A tall and well-built Hispanic man in a dark gray suit and blue shirt without tie, cup of coffee in hand, came and sat at the table. “We have newcomers here, I see.”
     “Welcome, guys,” he continued while looking curiously into Michael and Victor.  “I know you,” he said to Victor. “Were you here before?”
     “Yes. Twice, but I haven’t completed the program. The first time, I was kicked out for leaving without permission and getting high; the second time, I just left before the end of the program.”
     “The third time’s a charm. How about you, young man?” he said with a bit of irony in his voice while looking at Michael.
      “It is my first time here, or in any place like this, for that matter,” Michael answered.
      “I hope it will work out for you. It did for many. I am Pastor Lee Quinones. I have been a counselor here for the past twenty years. Twenty-four years ago, I came here the same way you did, as a homeless man.”
       “And they kicked you out three times,” Rick said with a smile.
       “Yes, I am not ashamed to admit it. I was a wild kid, hooked on everything that was available on the streets. It took me four times to complete the program. But I did. Anyway, you two probably don’t know who will be your counselor yet, but if you need anything ever, my office is on the third floor. Also, I am the only counselor who lives in the Mission, so pretty much, I am available twenty-four-seven.”
      “Thank you,” Michael said.
      Michael finished his oatmeal.  He didn’t know what to do next. As students were finishing their breakfast, they were leaving the dining room and going to get ready for morning Bible classes. But since Michael wasn’t assigned to any room yet, he didn’t receive his schedule either. All he knew was that he could not leave the Mission anymore without permission. And he didn’t have the desire to leave anyway. Still tired from sleepless nights on the subway, all he was thinking of were rest, food, and peace.
       He stood up and took his tray with the empty plate to the station for dirty dishes at the corner of the dining room. He looked around. Homeless people were already taking the chairs of the students who were leaving. There was a big contrast between them. All of those in the program were in clean and often brand new clothing, shaven and clean, while most of the homeless from the outside were in ripped and smelly clothing, unshaven, and they all looked very stressed.
      There were quite a few women with small children among the homeless. It was a sad picture to look at. It was the world Michael didn’t know anything about. But for the last ten days, he was a part of it. He knew that for some of these people being homeless was the only way of life they knew. He couldn’t understand how they could cope with it.
      The last ten days had been like being in hell. And it seemed to him that he had escaped by a thread yet again. The more he looked at the students around him, the more he was convinced that he got lucky by joining this program. They all looked well nourished, well dressed, and content.  The program would give him time to recuperate, recharge his batteries in peace and in a safe place. That is exactly what he needed. 
      That afternoon Michael got his bed in a room on the second floor. The admission counselor gave him a slip for clothing and he went to Rick in the clothing room to pick everything he needed. He got four pairs of jeans, four t-shirts, four dress shirts, four pairs of underwear, four pairs of socks, two new sweaters, a leather jacket, sneakers, brown dress shoes, and slippers for the bathroom. He also got four towels, shampoo, and more toiletries. Most of the things he got were brand new. Nothing one would expect to get in a homeless shelter.
       “This is crazy. Like in a candy store where everything is free,” Michael said.
       “We call it “Blessing-dales” department store, you know, like Bloomingdales,” Rick answered. “Most of the students come here without any clothing and by the end of the program, they have so much clothing that they don’t have to buy anything for at least the next two years. The Bowery is one of the oldest and best-known Missions in the city and has many big donors. Some of the best fashion houses, like Brooks Brothers and Ralph Lauren, donate clothing directly to the Bowery. So you have a homeless guy just coming from the streets into the program suddenly wearing a three-hundred-dollar shirt and a suit worth over a thousand.”
       “This would be a good place to work,” Michael said.
       “It is good, but it is not easy at the same time. Twice a week we have a crowd of about two hundred homeless men from outside taking showers down here and we are providing them with a change of the clothing. It is like a mad house. Half of them are crazy, the other half wants only brand new clothing, so they can sell it after they walk out of here, and then after two days they are back in their old rags; and again demanding brand new stuff. Some of them are really nasty; like it is their right, not a privilege.”
       “But if you want, you can ask your counselor to send you here to work,” Rick continued “Just so you know – I am the boss here, and there is a lot of work every day. We receive bags and bags of donated clothing and all of that needs to be sorted out, folded, and placed where it belongs. The good part of working here is that you get to pick the best pieces for yourself; of course, carefully, nothing in excess. Otherwise, other students will complain.”
       It took Michael only a few days to adapt to the new situation. He was assigned to a counselor, Pastor Charles Jourdan. He was a Haitian man in his fifties, always with a smile on his face, and always starting every conversation with a quote from the Scriptures. Every Monday morning, at 9:00a.m., Michael had to go for a session with the counselor to discuss the progress of his recovery, his plans for the future, and anything else that may help him get on the right path after the completion of the program.
       Most of the working days in the Mission were the same. All students had to work one of many jobs within the Mission. Some were working in the kitchen, some as ushers in the Chapel, others in the clothing room or any other duties needed in running and maintaining of the Mission.
       The lights would go out at ten in the evening and by that time everybody had to be in bed.
       On Wednesdays and Saturdays from ten in the morning until noon, students had the right to go out to the nearby park, to walk around or play sports. Michael used that time to walk to Barnes and Noble on Union Square, look through the new magazines, and check out new book titles. After a while, he started feeling normal again. He started thinking about the future. He still didn’t know what he would do after the Bowery Mission, but he was gaining his confidence back.
        He managed to be assigned to work in the clothing room. It was a good place for him. He was good at organizing things, and he also liked good clothing. After just one month of working there, he had quite a nice wardrobe that would have cost a lot of money, if he had bought it in the store.
       The only thing that bothered him was that he was completely cut off from the outside world. Yes, he could walk around the city twice a week, but there was no way for him to get in touch with anybody if he wanted. He didn’t even have a quarter for the phone. And the use of internet in the computer room was limited and supervised.