5 minute speech for monthly meeting~~~^^

Everyday Curelty Last week, I found myself worrying less about problems of world politics and national crime and more about smaller evils. I came home one day with a bad taste in my mouth, the kind I get whenever I witness the little cruelties that people inflict on each other. On this particular day, I had seen three especially mean-spirited things happen. I first thought about mean-spirited people as I walked from the bus stop to the office where I work. I make this walk every day, and it’s my first step away from the comforts of home and into the tensions of the city. For me, a landmark on the route is a tiny patch of ground that was once strewn with rubbish and broken glass. The city is trying to make a “pocket park” out of it by planting trees and flowers. Every day this spring, I watched the skinny saplings put out tiny leaves. When I walked past, I always noted how big the tulips were getting and made bets with myself on when they would bloom. But last Wednesday, as I reached the park, I felt sick. Someone had knocked the trees to the ground and trampled the budding tulips into the dirt. Someone had destroyed a bit of beauty for no reason. At lunchtime on Wednesday, I witnessed more meanness. Along with dozens of other hungry, hurried people, I was waiting in line a t McDonald’s. Also in line was a young mother with two tired, impatient children clinging to her legs. The mother was trying to calm the children, but it was obvious that their whining was about to give way to full-fledged tantrums. The lines barely moved, and the lunchtime tension was building. Then, one of the children began to cry and scream. The little boy’s bloodcurdling yells resounded through the restaurant, and people stared angrily at the helpless mother. Finally, one man turned to her and said, “Lady, you shouldn’t bring your kids to a public place if you can’t control them.” The woman was exhausted and hungry. Someone in line could have helped her with her problem. Instead, even though many of the customers in the restaurant were parents themselves, they treated her like a criminal. The worst incident of mean-spiritedness that I saw that day happened after I left work. As I walked to the bus stop, I approached an old woman huddled in a doorway. She was wrapped in a dirty blanket and clutched a cheap vinyl bag packed with her belongings. She was one of the “street people” our society leaves to fend for themselves. The United States, the richest country on earth, should not allow such suffering. Some of these victims even live in cardboard boxes during the coldest winters. Approaching the woman from the opposite direction were three teenagers who were laughing and talking in loud voices. When they saw the old woman, they began to shout crude remarks at her. One of them grabbed her shopping bag and pretended to throw it out into the street. The woman stared helplessly at them, like a wounded animal surrounded by hunters. Then, having had their fun, the teenagers went on their way. I had seen enough of the world’s coldness that day and wanted to leave it behind. At home, I huddled in the warmth of my family. I wondered why we all contribute to the world’s supply of petty cruelty. There’s enough of it already.