today i sat with an old man on the bus.
i could see the war in his face.
the sorrow in each of his eyes,
and the pain in every wrinkle.
what has that man seen.
i'm sure he was here during the war.
i wonder how many loved ones he watched die.
i wonder how long it took him to get along with his life.
i wonder how he manages to do it.
he looked as though he has been worked hard his entire life. worked like no man should. hour after hour day after day to make something in a world that would come along and destroy it.
i sat looking at his dirty hands. they were covered in coal dust. i bet his home doesn't even have heat. there's 4 feet of snow on the ground and that old man has to shovel coal to warm his family. what kind of world is this. how can we just keep taking all things for granted.
how lucky are we.
today is christmas eve and i sat with an old man who quite possibly had to watch members of his family die in a war over last names and ethnic backgrounds, and he has to shovel his own coal to keep himself warm.
we complain to much.
December 24, 1999