All Scott ever wanted was bigger feet…or at least the appearance of them.
Scott was a resident at the youth treatment facility I worked at and was definitely different than the other boys. He had sparse bits of hair. He was hard to understand with his slurred speech. He had a very poor complexion, to put it lightly. He stood a towering five feet tall and maybe weighed 100 pounds. Scott was the first to be picked on and the last to be chosen. I have never felt so sorry for one single person.
On one particular Friday night, Scott had been given a voucher to go get some brand new clothes from outerwear to footwear. He was more than excited and ran to get ready. After being gone two hours, Scott was anxious to show the group, and myself, the apparel he had acquired.
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