(For reasons unknown to me, I've been having random flashbacks not so infrequently lately. They come in my dreams, they come while I am eating lunch, and they come, as did this one, when I am on the bus. I actually intended to blog about this when it happened, so here we are.)
The night my heart broke.
It was dark, raining and for an August night, cold, I was sitting on a bus past midnight, in route back to Detroit from Birmingham. I remember attempting to dust the dried tears away. I remember having cried that night over something that would soon seem so trivial.
The bus came to stop just inside the city. The doors open, and first a lady with a single crutch hobbled unto the bus. She slowly and painfully made her way to the back, while her male companion entered the bus and searched desperately through the pockets of his tattered jeans for a way to pay. When he did not find the two or so dollars that he knew he did not have, he tried to plead with the bus driver that he just needed to get her to the next stop; the bus driver asserted that she did not give free rides.
Watching the lady use the crutch to force her way to the front of the bus, I looked at the several other faces on the bus. None of them seemed to have been watching, hearing the same thing as me. None of them seemed to have cared that it was raining, dark and cold, and he was without a jacket, and she was obviously injured. None of them interjected, pleading with the bus driver to show mercy, or offering them the two, or so, dollars they needed.
Not even me. I sat there with anger in my mind, sadness in my heart, and 74 dollars in my purse. And as much I as wanted to shove the small green wad into the man's fist, some cowardice in me left me frozen, and shivering, in my seat.
I am the girl who dreams of saving the world, who dreams of being a champion and a voice for those who are otherwise defeated and silent. And I sat there, and did nothing.
The night my heart broke.
It was dark, raining and for an August night, cold, I was sitting on a bus past midnight, in route back to Detroit from Birmingham. I remember attempting to dust the dried tears away. I remember having cried that night over something that would soon seem so trivial.
The bus came to stop just inside the city. The doors open, and first a lady with a single crutch hobbled unto the bus. She slowly and painfully made her way to the back, while her male companion entered the bus and searched desperately through the pockets of his tattered jeans for a way to pay. When he did not find the two or so dollars that he knew he did not have, he tried to plead with the bus driver that he just needed to get her to the next stop; the bus driver asserted that she did not give free rides.
Watching the lady use the crutch to force her way to the front of the bus, I looked at the several other faces on the bus. None of them seemed to have been watching, hearing the same thing as me. None of them seemed to have cared that it was raining, dark and cold, and he was without a jacket, and she was obviously injured. None of them interjected, pleading with the bus driver to show mercy, or offering them the two, or so, dollars they needed.
Not even me. I sat there with anger in my mind, sadness in my heart, and 74 dollars in my purse. And as much I as wanted to shove the small green wad into the man's fist, some cowardice in me left me frozen, and shivering, in my seat.
I am the girl who dreams of saving the world, who dreams of being a champion and a voice for those who are otherwise defeated and silent. And I sat there, and did nothing.
4 comments:
i was very tempted to be a douche in my comment. instead will remain silent
I know exactly how you feel I also do the same, my only difference is that always have a second thought that the person is scheming so I also do nothing.
Thanks, Luke.
Inaction isn't something that typically characterizes me, in any situation. But this one time was enough to haunt and scar me for life. I suppose I have a lot of making up to do!
I understand this, but the thought that came to me, however ever much you feel you have to make up for this, is that your heart actually felt this. No one feels anything for anyone anymore.
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