I believe that every person has the capacity to do well, and will do so despite other outlying circumstances. Even those that have hearts hardened with stone by years of conforming to ill morals and witnessing great atrocities.
I once knew a kid whose muscles throbbed with crushing strength. He was a seventeen year old I feared and respected: I feared him in the sense that if I looked at him wrongly I would be knocked on my bottom. I also respected him in the sense that he had awe-inspiring and vindictive strength, which was once expressed in my favor. I never had a problem with him, but for some reason he was cool with a kid that my brother hated. And that’s how things got started.
My brother had a conflict with a local kid in the neighborhood when I was 10, a kid who was considered “dangerous” and held an influence amongst those who were “strong.” At one point the conflict reached a climax, where the deciding moment was between my brother and I, and the kid and his group of “strong” and numerous friends. Strength in numbers I suppose… The kid was a punk, and needed friends to back up his fists. My brother and I were outnumbered greatly by these hoodlums, a group of kids that had been gathered by some punk kid my brother had a problem with. They made my brother conform to their will, making him get down on his knees and say sorry, and almost making him roll around in the dirt like a dog. I could only watch with angry, tearful eyes… I begged them to stop but they only pushed me aside and cackled like jackals. It seemed there was nothing that I could do, I felt helpless in so many ways. Then, one of the members of their group seemed to have had enough. He bellowed a loud, brutal cry, the words breaking through the screams, “You like to pick on little kids huh?”
The rage startled me, as the kid took my brother’s nemesis in a hard. The kid had him in a savage, choking headlock, which seemed to almost rip the life from him. A mad rush descended upon the fellow who decided to help us, and with much ease he threw them off. He continued his assault upon the ringleader with balled, bulging fists. I felt his fury, and I shouted from the distance, as we stared at the brawl unfolding, “Thank you.” He merely shouted in response, “GO! JUST RUN! GO!” And my brother and I did just as he instructed.
That day, a kid whom I feared and respected came to my aid, despite whatever coldness he held in his heart. It is because of this, that I believe that every person is good at heart, and will do so despite other outlying factors. This I believe above all things.
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