I like how Littlebear says things:

They look at me from under furrowed brows and frown as they continue past, hollering to one another in low german. It makes me long for the children of africa, with their black faces and white smiles. They will never withold a smile from you, not as long as they know how to do it. I miss their ragged loose fitting pants and the worn shirts that hang off their skinny shoulders. I've never seen children as beautiful as those.

I further wonder about the opinions of others as I wander the streets of this clean and quiet town. It seems so silly to spend even a moment bothering with the subjective, perspective based opinion of another. People are fickle and have short memories. They are ever changing, ever growing, and how they feel will change tomorrow.

I pass a house, the only one on the street, with chipped paint and a cracked foundation. An old airconditioner hangs out a front window and the car that sits on the driveway is on it's last leg. People might think that these people are poor.

"Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of God"

I pass a yard that's unkept, strewn with broken toys and forgotten tools. The grass is long and weeds creep up the side of the house. People might think that these people are messy

Better an unkept yard than a white-washed tomb.

Don't you think?