I saw him on many occasions while waiting to take the bus to school. He always chose to sit on the nearest bench to the bus station where most people would congregate to catch their transportation. The elderly man with bright white hair matching his long white beard would hunch over with an old book in his hands. One day I noticed him taking the street that led to my home. I followed him from far away. He disappeared into an old house with broken windows that appeared abandoned. We were all poor, but his outward appearance caused me to think that he had less than us. He lived a very simple life…alone. As a child I wasn’t sure why no one ever wanted to talk to him. Each time he would try to approach people at the bus station, they would spit on him, kick him or completely ignore him by crossing to the other side of the street. Finally the day came when I was told that this man was dangerous because he believed in God! Under communism, anyone who believed in God and worshiped Him, rather than our dictators, was either taken to a concentration camp and killed or was placed in a mental institution.