Often during winter nights, I like to walk the empty courts and streets of my neighborhood. I like to be alone, to gaze at the stars, and make my way under the streetlights. However, for the past few days, my thoughts have been invaded by this particular, young boy. He, I believe, is around eight, and, during the day, I see him often. No, I do not look for him. I just notice him. He wraps himself in an assortment of mismatching colors, roams the streets, walks in a busy stumble, waves at everyone with an awkward smile, and constantly pushes his glasses up on his small nose. And to make him more conspicuous, the reaction of the people ripple around him, giving my eyes a convenient sign as to where he is in the crowd of the day. They glare at him, snicker, and point as he shines his awkward smile and waves at strangers.
On this particular night, my thoughts again wandered to this boy. I decided that the very next day, I would smile and wave to him unlike the others walking among the streets. Smiling with this thought, I walked briskly towards home. But I heard a noise in the quiet night. And as I looked to see where the noise had come from, I saw a figure on the bench a few feet away from me. It was the boy.
To see him on the bench, all alone, on this cold, lonesome night was a peculiar sight - his bottle cap glasses at the tip of his small nose, his left green glove, purple right glove resting on his lap, and a bright blue jacket that didn't quite match his lime green pants. I could see his breath come from him for it was freezing, and watched the quick gasps as they wisped into the sky and disappeared. The boy's nose and ears must have been in a painful state being naked in the unforgiving, frosty winds.
I noticed his face last of all for it was shadowed by his maroon winter cap, which much like the rest of his clothes did not match his overall attire, and I felt instant sorrow on what I saw. The expression on his face nearly bought tears to my eyes: his sadness, his eyebrows in a hopeless upturned manner, his blue lips quivering, and tears falling upon his frozen cheeks.
My footsteps bought me closer to the bench. I could hear him. His pants came softly and his voice cracked with every weep. I sat beside him and wrapped my arms around him. At this, his sobbing grew louder. He grabbed my arm and shook. His crying left my jacket sleeves drenched and, after many minutes, slowly ebbed away as he gave a deep sigh, closed his eyes, and leaned his head against me. He fell asleep in my arms. My dry eyes suddenly seeped with tears. I could not stop crying.
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Can you see it?
The hatred that consumes people today?
Unexplainable hatred.
Sometimes, hatred disguises itself too. Take this example, my mom and I (we're asian) were at a store and needed some help finding something. We waited patiently as a worker very nicely helped another lady find shoes, going out of her way to find a specific color and size. When my mom asked where she could get some dress shoes, the worker's face immediately went from a smile to a disgusting frown and she MUMBLED. "uh. hold on. just a sec." Then she went to her fellow worker and started talking. And not about the dress shoes but about what she did with her husband the other day...
