The weight of exhaustion pressed heavily on me as I lay in bed, my body aching for rest after yet another whirlwind day of endless activities.
My eyes burned from fatigue, but no matter how much I wanted to surrender to sleep, my mind refused to cooperate.
It kept dragging me back to what had unfolded yesterday—a seemingly ordinary day that had left an unexpectedly deep impression on me.
The memory started with a simple walk.
I was on my way to the mall, determined to tick off an errand on my growing to-do list.
The air was warm, and the streets buzzed with the energy of people going about their day.
Amid the usual hum of life, I noticed two girls walking a few steps ahead of me.
Their voices, loud and piercing, sliced through the ambient noise, pulling my attention against my will.
From their appearances, they seemed to be my age, wearing uniforms from another university.
I initially tried to tune them out, not wanting to intrude on their conversation.
But then, their words reached me—sharp, unkind, and impossible to ignore.
"Look at her, Dae," one of them said, her tone dripping with disdain.
"Her outfit is so tacky. And her uniform? It looks like it hasn’t even touched an iron."
She let out a laugh so venomous it made my stomach twist.
"Yeah, and she’s so dark," the other one chimed in, her voice equally cruel.
"Ew, she doesn’t even look like a girl. Yuck!"
Their laughter rang out again, blending into a sound so mocking it made me stop in my tracks.
I felt heat rise to my face, a mixture of anger and disbelief.
What the!
Who were they to say such things?
They didn’t even know the girl they were talking about, and yet their words were so cutting, so vile.
My hands clenched into fists as I tried to calm myself, the urge to confront them bubbling up inside me.
The girls, oblivious to my growing rage, continued walking ahead, their laughter echoing like a taunt.
I quickened my pace, debating whether I should call them out.
My heart raced, but before I could make a decision, the mall’s entrance came into view.
The girls turned left, and I decided to take a deep breath and let it go.
'Don’t waste your energy on people like them,' I told myself, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.
As I approached the entrance, my eyes landed on a figure ahead of me—the girl they had been mocking.
She was walking briskly, her back straight but her steps hurried, as if she was trying to escape something.
My heart twinged with a mix of concern and curiosity.
I felt an inexplicable need to see if she was okay, to catch a glimpse of her face.
I picked up my pace, trying to close the distance between us.
Just as I was about to reach her, she suddenly stopped.
I was moving too quickly to halt in time and ended up bumping into her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said immediately, her voice soft and full of sincerity.
Her unexpected kindness caught me off guard.
Flustered, I quickly apologized. “No, no, it’s my fault! I wasn’t paying attention. I’m really sorry,” I stammered, offering a sheepish smile.
She glanced up at me, and for the first time, I saw her face.
My breath caught.
She had a round, delicate face framed by thick, natural eyebrows that gave her an air of quiet strength.
Her small, pointed nose and almond-shaped eyes sparkled despite the faint traces of weariness.
Even the tiny pimples on her cheeks didn’t detract from her beauty; instead, they made her look human, real, and stunning in her simplicity.
She smiled—a soft, genuine smile that lit up her entire face—and said, “It’s okay, miss. Don’t worry about it. I’ll go ahead, alright?”
Her tone was light, almost cheerful, as if the cruel words from earlier hadn’t reached her at all.
Before I could respond, she turned and walked away, her steps quick and purposeful.
I stood there, frozen, watching her disappear into the crowd.
My thoughts swirled.
How could those girls have been so cruel to someone so beautiful, both inside and out?
Were they blind, or simply too consumed by their own insecurities to see her worth?
As I continued with my errand, her face lingered in my mind, along with the echo of those girls’ laughter.
The encounter stirred something deep within me—a realization about the harshness of human nature.
How quick we are to judge, to tear others down without a second thought.
And for what?
A fleeting sense of superiority?
The incident made me think about how society often places so much value on appearances, praising those adorned with gold and silver while ignoring the quiet beauty of authenticity and kindness.
It’s heartbreaking how easily we forget that a person’s true worth lies far beyond what the eye can see.
As much as I wanted to point fingers, I knew I wasn’t entirely innocent.
There had been times when I, too, had judged others unfairly, even if only in my thoughts.
But I always tried to remind myself that it wasn’t right.
We can’t truly understand someone’s journey until we’ve walked in their shoes.
And even then, what gives us the right to judge?
As I lay in bed, I thanked God for giving me a heart that still ached at the sight of injustice, for reminding me of the importance of kindness and compassion.
I prayed for strength—not just for myself, but for the girl I had met, hoping she would always remember her worth, no matter what cruel words were thrown her way.
And as sleep finally claimed me, I held on to one thought: that in a world so quick to judge, we must strive to be the ones who see with our hearts, not just our eyes.
Because in the end, we don’t truly know someone’s story—we only know their name.
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Non-FictionLife often presents itself as a series of hurdles, each one taller than the last. These hurdles, though daunting, are not meant to break us but to shape us into who we are meant to be. It is through our darkest nights that we gain the strength to fa...
