A Tale of Two Strangers

Today I heard two very different, very amazing stories from a couple of people who I consider to be friends.

"It was the best of times..."

I walked into chapel choir today, and walked right in on a story of the kindness of strangers being recounted to the choir. Our choir director told us how he ended sleeping on a cold steel bench for three hours in O'Hare airport, and afterwards, he noticed how much he and other people around him trusted each other with their possessions. Not only that, but he also noticed how because of the kindness of strangers, sleeping people were woken up to be able to catch their planes by strangers. Strange people looking out for other people.

"It was the worst of times..."

I walked into my classroom building today saw my good friend and noticed that his glasses were gone. When I asked him about it, he told me that he had been jumped and beaten by strangers while walking around town just last night. Unknown people, for whatever reason, stole from and beat up my friend for no apparent reason. How can somebody devalue another human being to the point where she or he can steal from and violently attack another human being? Do they just not care that the person they attacked was a person full of love and compassion for other people? I must admit that this is first time in a long time that someone close to me has been the victim of un-aggravated violence. Heck, it may be the first time ever. The whole event seems so raw and disconnected with the depictions of violence I've seen on TV and in the movies. The fake events in "entertainment" pale immensely to reality. It also makes stories like the one I heard in choir today seem unbelievable.