The great thing about being an American is that a man can stand on a Chicago street corner with a microphone and a loudspeaker and preach, "You can't go to heaven if you're a homosexual" and not be beaten.
The other great thing about being an American is that a passerby can tell him, "You can't go to heaven if you have hate in your heart," causing the man to retreat to the shadows.
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But turn around. Hatred and fear are replaced by wonder and joy.
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Further into the heart of the park, joy rides on the strings of a violin as a free concert entertains thousands. Music that has been cherished for centuries is shared with a new generation.
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Some of that generation can later be found splashing their way through the end of a hot, muggy day.
The laughter is a chorus uniting the young and the young-at-heart.
Smiles light up the night.
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Public transportation should be a nuisance, but when a violinist (whose talents rival those of the man who was playing for thousands in the park) fills the hallway with his sweet notes, public transportation becomes a pleasure. Dozens gather round and listen in silence to the man who doesn't play with heart, he plays with soul.
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A hate-filled beginning is balanced perfectly by a chance encounter with a man on the train. He sits in silence until his phone rings. Then it's as if a switch has been flipped--his face lights up with pure joy. Whoever the person on the other end of the call is has the power to inject happiness into the man with just the sound of his or her voice.
I hope he has told that person just how happy he or she makes him feel.
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I was in Chicago for one day for work, with just a couple of hours of free time to enjoy the city. Sometimes all it takes is two hours to find something worth remembering.