We’ve gotten away from ourselves, from the innocence of our birthright, where we knew not how to form prisons in our mind to place the other race, or the dirty face of one who struggles to stay clean. We’ve been encouraged to swap a full name for a label, and the community of ‘us’ hardens into the endless fight against ‘them,’ and the few moments of empathy that find the light of day have become signals that we need to toughen up; suck it up, cause everyone has it rough and that’s just the way the world works best. But for who?
When you see them in the park, plainclothes street soldiers striking out against the dark, and you hear the laughter and see the smiles of a crowd that just refuses to give up, when you feel the warmth pass from the one who gives to the one who needs, and it eclipses the stream coming off of a hot meal, and it’s color shines brighter than that newly bought jacket, you see the game-changer. You see the changing of the tide.
In a world painted over in designer disregard, charity is the ultimate rebellion.
Street Soldiers 