"If you don't have a dream, how are you going to make a dream come true?" - Oscar HammersteinThis is for Marc. “Today is my last writing group!” he exclaimed when he walked in the door. He has a big wide smile, a smile so broad it extends to the edges of his face. The kind of smile that makes you want to smile back, even on a non-smile kind of day. Today it was just a bit wider. “I’m moving out tomorrow!” Wow. That’s the goal, after all. They work and save and budget their money. They go to school. They deal with the past. They work their programs. They get sober. And then, hopefully, with a little bit of luck, they move out. We had a new guy venture in last night. Every now and then, someone hears something that makes them want to come in and check it out, come see what we’re doing behind the closed door of classroom number 2. Tonight was Joe’s night. He came in and sheepishly sat down. “I’m not much of a writer,” he said. The regulars just smiled. We’ve heard that line before. Marc fingered his notebook, flipping it open to the first page. The smile got wider. “I’ve been coming since January 23rd. Six months.