The Raven
My faith in humanity was restored when in the midst of a violent and graphic abortion protest, I saw a man in a baseball jersey with a sign that said "Go Mets."
My faith in humanity was restored when in the midst of a violent and graphic abortion protest, I saw a man in a baseball jersey with a sign that said "Go Mets."
It took working for a religious organization for me to finally accept that I'm an atheist.
I lost all faith in my doctor the day I saw him use Web-MD to diagnose me.
When the priest said my parents didn't raise me right because I was planning to marry a Baptist, I stopped being Catholic.
The first day I wore my military uniform, a man came up to me, grasped my forearm, smiled at me and said with tears in his eyes "Thank you."
When I found out the boy whose small gestures of kindness in high school had given me faith in humanity had hanged himself, I lost that faith in humanity.
She's afraid of me cheating on her with my friend, and, admittedly, I wish I could.
He salvaged what was left of me and yet it seems that this fact is of little interest to the world.