The gray, misty morning was refreshing after the excruciating heat wave that had been wreaking havoc in Suji the past week. I welcomed the splashes from passing cars as they sped by on the four-lane highway. Everyone seemed happier in this wet, cool weather. The rain had melted many of the hard exterior facial expressions I often met on the street. The older Koreans were looking me in the eye today, smiling and nodding, instead of gawking at me as the overweight, pale-skin stranger.
As I waited patiently for the light to turn from green to red so I could cross the street to get a few last minute items at the local grocery store, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and thanked God for this beautiful rainy day in this strange new country I now called home. I welcomed the rain as it gently kissed my face. I breathed in the dampness and city smell around me. I thanked Jesus for the kind smiles and the cars passing by creating a nice breeze as they zoomed by me. I thanked him for the man beside me on the old metal bicycle with the kind eyes. His gentle eyes and kind smile reminded me of my grandfather I once knew. I said a little prayer for him that he wouldn't have to pedal too far in this wet weather. I prayed that he, too, was thanking God for the relief from the weather.
The beeping of signal crossing let me know it was time to get on with my errands for the day. I slowly opened my eyes, trying to savor the last raindrop dripping off my nose.
Screeching tires. Metal colliding. Horrifying gasps. A sickening thud. The man on the bicycle with the gentle eyes and kind smile lay under the tires of the rusty, green city bus.
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