So that one time...

You see it all of the time, discrimination. It happens in movie theaters, supermarkets, and school. Everyone says they want it to stop, but do they do anything to help it.

The other day, as I walked down the street. I saw two teenagers, white boys, picking on a young black boy. This little boy could barely talk, so much as to defend himself. These older kids, though, they didn't care. So as I walked closer, and closer to them, I felt my heart beat faster and faster. I don't quite know why, but it was something about those boys, although I was much older, that made me nervous.

Down the street I walked, until I finally reached them. I asked them to stop. They did not listen. I asked them to stop again. More and more they pushed me until I had enough. I yelled, screamed at the top of my loungs to tell them to stop picking on the little black boy. Yet, they did not listen. So as I stood there, looking like an idiot, I simply grabbed the little boy's hand, and walked away with him. I could not watch this nonsense any longer. It was too hard.

I walked the boy home. He introduced himself. Martial was his name. It seemed like we walked for miles and miles because we talked for so long. Those miles, turned into weeks, which turned into months, which soon turned into years. I had not seen this boy for years.

The other day, I walked down the street. I saw two teenagers, white boys, picking on a young black boy. This little boy could barely talk, so much as to defend himself. These older kids, though, they didn't care. So as I walked closer, and closer to them, I felt my heart beat faster and faster. I don't quite know why, but it was something about those boys, although I was much older, that made me nervous. As I walked up to the boys, another man, a little bit older than the teenagers stepped in front of me. He took the little boy by his hand and walked him away. I followed them, for I wanted to see who this man was. The man saw me and asked who I was. I introduced myself as did he. Martial was his name. Could it be? All these years without seeing him, and he just popped up. It was him. It was the little boy I had loved and saved.

You see, had it not been for one person trying to make a difference, others would not have learned. This boy, nopw a man, might have grown up thinking it was okay to let others pick on him. That didn't happen though, because he had learned.

It only takes one person, to change the world.