“The good neighbor looks beyond the external accidents and discerns those inner qualities that make all men human and, therefore, brothers.” – Martin Luther King Jr.
We’re so fragile. We’re all made up of the same things. We’re all skeletons underneath our skin. We all have blood flowing throughout our body.We all have stories. We all have things we regret. We have bruises. We have scars. We have passions. We have songs in our minds. We have hurt. We have love. We’re all human.
I used to not wonder, but now I find myself wanting to know others’ stories. When the lady checking my groceries is genuinely happy, I wonder. The parents’ with their children looking exhausted, or the parents’ with their children that are full of laughter; I find myself curious about their life. When I see a cute old couple just driving together, I wonder about the many years they’ve lived together. The people at the bus stop, the people gathered in Starbucks or the library, the people at the grocery store, the waiter that serves me at a restaurant, or the people surrounded by me on a plane; I wonder about their passions.
We go each day passing by so many people with small talk; we forget that we are all made up of desires and dreams. I think that when you get to know someones’ story – what they’ve been through, what they have passions for, and the way they carry themselves – it all adds up to something beautiful.