Across from me is a string of multicultural splendour—all colours, shapes and ‘makes’ of the human rainbow. As each different person on this train I’m on does ‘their thing’ there is one thing astoundingly noticeable—everyone is different and yet there is an unspoken respect humming within the car. You can just feel it.
Three mobile phones ring in short succession—each phone’s ring tone so different from the previous one.
Difference... beautiful difference.
The feeling in this train is something I’m trying to find the words for... it’s capturing something we all need.
It is tolerance—blissful, accepted, brandished tolerance. And I think:
I AM HOME.
On any given day, and indeed, to-day, humanity can reach its very God-blessed best.
Even on public transport, I am home.
© 2010 S. J. Wickham.
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