The Man at the Bus Stop

As a young female runner, I've been programmed to be afraid of certain types of people. There's a level of profiling that happens when I'm alone on the city streets. Even in daylight there are places I won't go and people I will avoid by crossing the road. Car honks and cat calls, among worse things, reinforce my suspicion that I am never truly safe.

And then every so often in Atlanta, Georgia, one of those fear-inducing people will start cheering me on from the bus stop, and it really gets to the heart of what heaven will be like.

Sometimes I can't believe it's coming, but I still look for the day when I will not be afraid, when I will not stereotype my brothers and sisters, and when we will all surprise each other with hope.

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