Have a talk with God

As I was walking to the pool during my lunchbreak today, two young men were skittering across Stuart Street as the light turned green. They were blocking traffic and looked embarrassed, offering the affected cars waves and sloppy smiles of apology as they trotted and scurried out of the path of oncoming vehicles. Clearly, they were new college freshmen, recently imported for orientation week - probably EC kids (because they were dressed like burgeoning artists and appeared to be gay, both of which make it likely that they're my students). When they managed to reach the sidewalk, a car sped by impatiently, and as the two young men again waved an apology, the driver held up his middle finger. Caught off guard, the kids looked at one another, surprised - and laughed.

By now the lights had turned red and the signal told us more experienced, law-abiding citizens who were congregated at the curb that it was safe to walk. A small, bland-looking woman next to me sighed as we started to cross. "People are mean," she said. "I pray for them."

I looked over at her. Talk about hitting the nail on the head. "Yup," I said, even though I don't pray for them. I give them the finger right back. But thank goodness at least someone is addressing the issue of human kindness, or lack thereof, with the big guy.