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It was hotter than usual as I walked home from work that day. I looked forward to having a tall, cold glass of iced tea.
As I passed by, I noticed a large, young Native man come out of a house. He yelled and swore to a buddy inside, then laughed loudly as he started down the sidewalk toward me.
I could feel him studying me from behind. When I glanced at him, he gave me a sly smile, took off his black T-shirt and put his thumbs in the pockets of tight blue jeans.
I concentrated on the road ahead of me, realizing that, as my pace increased, he also walked more quickly. Inwardly, I held my speeding heart, and I prayed quickly as he came closer. He passed by, smiled at me kindly and said, "Hot one, isn't it?"
"Yeah," I responded, stunned. He turned the corner, and we each continued walking toward our own destinations. A few birds sang in the trees. I stepped around the glass on the sidewalk. Nothing had changed, except in my heart.
Trasi Arndt lives in Mississauga, Ont. This article was written several years ago when she was part of a Mennonite Central Committee SALT program in Winnipeg's North End.
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