Cries in the city
Last night, a man in South Station stood at the base of the down escalator pleading for money. Please, he beseeched, I'm just short three dollars. Please, he wailed to each person the escalator fed past him.
What were their thoughts? What were their feelings? Fear? Embarrassment? Disgust?
Shame on us. Shame on us for letting this happen. Shame on all of us for having grown so hard that we can so easily turn away. Shame on us for being so cold that my response is to dissect the situation, as coolly and clinically as a technician dismembers a frog. Each and every one of us probably had the three dollars in our pockets, but none of us reached in for even a quarter.