by Rose Beatrix C. Angeles (Trixie Cruz-Angeles)
Am I my brother's
keeper?
The other day, I walked past a man -- a boy really, sleeping
in the street. He lay amid a pile of garbage exhausted from his daily race to
survive.
I was busy, I had places to go. I had done it before --
walked past the least fortunate among us, trying to dismiss them from my mind.
I too have my own race to run, a family to provide for, a nation to save.
Things to do!
But not that day.