A warm person. One that she's always been. I feel proud of standing tall with her a few minutes ago, standing tall for the women who had no space to sit. We fought with the ones who didn't cooperate and couldn't understand the whole thing just because bad luck like other helpless ladies' didn't choose them. We fought, nonetheless, still speaking kindly.
There are these two poor ladies who look at the two of us, smiling. I get the reason behind their smiles. Such pure smiles. The thankfulness, anyone could see, reflecting through their eyes. Thankful to us for being by their side. They look innocent, they are so innocent, coming from small towns. I can tell that they like what they see. Seeing us, they seem to guess how close we are as friends. They don't thank us in words. They only smile. Differently. So I smile back, thinking that is appropriate, as what I guess is that they too seemed to be wishing if they too were with their girl-friends.
Me and J haven't had our first pimples together and no, we haven't done each others' homework. But when I receive one more appreciating smile from the same lady, I wish. Wish if she, J, could see the same. And the ladies, shivering badly, they're poor. They're poor hence they know not only the importance of money, but also to recognize the goodness in people. Because, I feel, powerty chose them and humanity didn't live without them making its symbols.
A few more minutes and the Sun will rise. I feel good. Because I see poor people being rich at heart. Because I know real rich people. So real that all they have is money.