We hear a lot about homelessness these days. Well, just three score and fifteen years ago, to put it gravely, the second world war had ended and I became a barefoot homeless refugee. That is because our house had gone up in flames and my shoes with it. Eventually things quieted down. Centers were set up where left-over German army clothing was collected for needy civilians. I went to see if I could get some shoes. There were piles of shoes, but only singles. I had been shot at alright, but I was lucky to still have both legs. So I did need a pair. I found a left boot that fit. But I could not find the mate. I came away looking like a clown: one black left boot and one brown right shoe. I walked around that way for quite a while. Moral of the story? When there is a famine the Devil will eat flies.