THE UMBRELLA – A TOUCHING STORY   

 

One rainy afternoon, a group of protesters were gathered outside the grocery store handing out pamphlets on the “evils” of America.       

I politely declined to take one.               

There was an elderly woman behind me and a young female protester offered her a pamphlet, which she politely declined.    

The young protester gently put her hand on the old woman’s shoulder and in a patronizing voice said, “Don’t you care about the children in other countries or our black children in America?”   

 The old woman looked up at her and said: “Honey, my father died in France during World War II, I lost my husband in Korea, and a son in Vietnam.   

All three died so a naïve, ignorant, self-centered  bimbo like you would have the right to stand here and badmouth our country. If you touch me again,

I’ll shove this umbrella up your ass and open it.”

.

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