Perhaps your response might depend on what kind of street is under scrutiny, and you would be right. Well then, imagine one. Forge it with old stones and primitive cement. Then make it dirty and poor. No, not poor. More like penniless, impoverished. Color the air above it with dust and smoke. Scatter some thieves, pickpockets and other street urchins on the corners, and you have before you something like this:
|Bonus points if you did in fact imagine it black and white|
If you understand all of that, then congratulations: you pretty much have this one street-kid Michael Magone all figured out. Before Don Bosco brought him to his oratory, that is more or less what Magone had to deal with on a daily basis.
|That's this guy, right here|
|Look. At. Him!|
But here's the kicker: Michael hated all of that. He hated being a street-kid. He hated having no self-control. He hated his gut instinct of throwing hooks and jabs. And he hated swearing. He hated it all so much that he contrived to do what no other street-kid before him dared to do: Michael Magone was planning on getting holy.
|We imagine him donning this shirt at his moment of resolution|
"Unfortunately, this tongue of mine has not always performed as it should have; at least it is in my power to correct it for the future!" ~Michael Magone (14)