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　　Little Things Are Big
　　It was very late at night on the eve of Memorial Day.
　　She got on the subway train at the 34th Street Pennsylvania Station.
　　I am still trying to remember
　　how she managed to push herself in
　　with a baby on her right arm,
　　a traveling bag in her left hand and two children,
　　a boy and a girl,about three and five years old,following after her.
　　She was a nice looking white lady in her early twenties.
　　At Nevins Street Station,Brooklyn,
　　I saw her preparing to get off at the next station--Atlantic Avenue
　　which happened to be the place where I had to get off.
　　Just as it was a problem for her to get on,
　　it was going to be a problem for her to get off the train
　　with two small children to be taken care of,
　　a baby on her right arm and a medium-sized bag in her left hand.
　　And there I was,also preparing to get off at the Atlantic Avenue,
　　with nothing to take care of not even the usual customary book under my arm.
　　As the train was entering the Atlantic Avenue Station,
　　some white man stood up from his seat and helped her out,
　　placing the children on the long,deserted platform.
　　There were only two adults on the long platform
　　some time after midnight on the eve of last Memorial Day.
　　I could see the steep concrete stairs going down to the Long Island Railroad
　　or up into the street.
　　Should I offer my help as the American white man had done?
　　Should I take care of the girl and the boy,
　　take them by their hands until they were out of the station?
　　Puerto Ricans are a courteous people.
　　And here I was a Puerto Rican hours past midnight,
　　faced with two white children and a white lady,
　　with a baby on her right arm and a bag in her left hand,
　　obviously needing somebody to help them
　　at least until they went up the long concrete stairs.
　　But how could I,a Negro and Puerto Rican,
　　approach this white lady who very likely might be prejudiced against Negroes
　　and anybody with a foreign accent,
　　in a deserted subway station very late at night?
　　What would she say?What would be the first reaction of this white American woman
　　perhaps coming from a small town with a bag,
　　two children and a baby on her right arm?
　　Would she say:Yes,of course,you may help me?Or would she think bad things perhaps
　　What would I do if she screamed as I went toward her to offer my help?
　　Was I misjudging her?
　　So many slanders are written
　　every day in the daily press against Negroes and Puerto Ricans.
　　I hesitated for a long,long minute.
　　The traditional good manners that the most illiterate Puerto Rican passes on
　　from father to son were struggling inside me.
　　Here I was,way past midnight,
　　face to face with a situation
　　that could very well become an incident of prejudice
　　and chauvinism caused by the unjust policy of our society today.
　　It was a long minute.I passed on by her as if I saw nothing.
　　As if I didn't see that she needed help.
　　Like a rude animal walking on two legs,I just moved on,
　　half running along the long subway platform,
　　leaving the children and the woman alone.
　　I took the steps of the long concrete stairs in twos
　　until I reached the street above and the cold air hit my warm face.
　　This is what racism and prejudice and chauvinism and a divided society
　　can do to the people and to a nation!
　　Perhaps the lady was not prejudiced after all.
　　Or not prefudiced enough to scream
　　when a Negro went toward her in a deserted subway station
　　a few hours past midnight.

　　If you were not prejudiced,I failed you,dear lady.
　　I know that there is a chance in a million that you will read these lines.
　　I am willing to take that millionth chance.
　　If you were not prejudiced,I failed you lady.I failed you,children.
　　I failed myself to myself.
　　I buried my courtesy early on Memorial Day morning.
　　But here is a promise that I make to myself here and now;
　　if I am ever faced with a situation like that again,
　　I am going to offer my help regardless of how the offer is going to be received
　　Then I will have my courtesy with me again.