Dear old couple, who owned the white 2001 Dodge Ram that hit our car with the extra wide cab. This all do to the simple fact that you did not want to park two spots away even though we were already at the very end of the parking lot. When coming out and noticing that you were parked right up against our car, leaving no space, AT ALL. Not even an inch, to get into the drivers side where my toddler's carseat was located, you came out right after us. You were an older gentleman who looked like an angry Santa, by this time you were closing in behind me after I had already handed my fiancée our son and began to try and examine our car. As I did so, you called out to me like a child who didn't understand a word and told me what in the hell was I doing? I replied with a simple "Checking my cars for scratches." You must of not heard me because you asked again, and again until my fiancée stepped in. Asking "Did you hit or scratch our car at all? We just want to know because how close you are to us." He replied no, but that he did fiddle with the mirrors and other things to see if his wife could make the SUPER TIGHT squeeze. I was a tad upset at this point, because you lied and even prodded at property that wasn't yours simply because you couldn't be bothered to walk two feet. I found it disappointing. This.. This is when I realized my place in this world as a person of color. As you spoke to me and my fiancée like we were 10. It hit me. Those words that were so easily thrown at us, "Don't talk to those people, they're disgusting. Don't talk to those DIRTY MEXICANS." Your wife was yelling at you, and breaking us. She threw out every racial slur and I let my ears swallow it all whole. I felt my body tense and shake, as she began calling out to me like I didn't speak english. Even though I had just responded in the only language I had ever known. My own culture actually being more foreign to me then the American one. I was white washed as my own had reffered to me before, all because my family didn't have the guts to teach me about my own culture in fear that the same thing my grandparents dealt with daily would end up being my own fate. I spoke back in clear english as she screamed and began pacing on the side of her car to intimidate me and my fiancée while holding our son. "WE BACK UP. WE BACK UP. WE BACK UP. WE BACK UP. WE BACK UP. NO UNDERSTAND? WE BACK UP. WE BACK UP." I won't lie, I felt anger. A lot. Because my tiny family wasn't even being treated as humans, not even animals. At this moment, we were cock roaches on your food chain. Not even worthy of any human remorse or humane treatment. We remained calm and kind. Even though I was losing it. As you jumped into your car, your husband guided you out and I realized. We weren't spoken to like children, but like those people.. We weren't anything to you, but people to step on. This had become my fate and will be the same for my own grandchildren one day. I always hope that it won't be that way, but I can't lie. Things won't change because people aren't willing to. I was hurt, tired, and defeated. As well as upset. I was upset for the people who did this to my own blood, my other fellow hispanics, and anyone else of color. No one deserves such treatment, and no one deserves to throw away the culture they love and know to please the opinion of a hateful person. And with all that being said, I forgive you. Only because I can't be mad forever, and because I feel sadness towards all the hate you bare and spew. I forgive you because one day you will meet your match. The universe gives what is put out. All I wish is that hopefully one day, one of your grandchildren doesn't have a mixed child who experiences the same pain my family and I did tonight. It's not alright what you did, and never will be. But I forgive you because I refuse to hold any anger or pain, otherwise you will have won. This experience tonight has only made me want to throw myself into my Mexican heritage and embrace, love.. and nuture others.