Remembering DC

We darted swiftly past the concrete jungle toward that fabled destination: the symbol of American freedom encased behind iron gates, expansive green lawn, stone pillars, and white walls. We must have seemed childlike running past distinguished men in dark suits and women in elegant dresses as they sat under the romantic white lights of the Willard Hotel. Yet, we did not care. Our goal was within sight, and no sense of embarrassment was going to stop us.

Out of breath and with very little sunlight left, we arrived. It was a vision of elite beauty- the center of attraction of all: black, white, brown, man, woman, and child. The flashing lights of digital cameras seemed to create a sense of strobed time: Smiles, poses, hugs, and every little human reaction were frozen in a single moment...

...My eyes focused upward toward the wonderful architecture present in the area. It was an amazing sight to behold in the waking hours of the morning. Our group awakened to find a new day filled with new adventures. We were walking toward the bus station in hopes of helping out at Covenant House located within the DC area. Our pace was light and free, a reflection of the joy we felt at being in a new place with so many of our friends there to share the moment.

As my gaze lowered toward the foundation of the structure, something new caught my eyes. A gray tarp lay upon the bus stop bench. It was concealing something. The tarp was ratted, with patches of plastic sewed in portions where holes would have been. Old, water soaked newspapers lay underneath the bench, forgotten. As we walked closer, a familiar smell sparked my memory: the slums and squatters of the Philippines. Visions of extreme poverty, begging children, sewage-strewn streets, ad cinder block homes came to me.

I looked once again toward the bench, only to find that a dirty, callused hand was exposed underneath the tarp. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed, but no one said a word regarding the being underneath the tarp. Was this person still breathing, still living a life unbearable?

We walked on seemingly not caring toward our destination. We must have seemed childish, not acting upon the suffering of another human being; but we did care. A strange sense of fear of the unknown grips the human being, causing inaction...