Somewhat true fable...

Loosely true story dressed as a fable:

The grandfather sat in his armchair, looking out the window. Sometimes, when the fog was just right, his mind would wander back to those worn brick streets. The hiding, the danger, the resistance to complete insanity. The resistance to the Nazis. His grandson, walking in and plopping himself in the armchair opposite, brought him back to the present.

"Gramps, I am confused about something."

"Tell me what's going on."

"You know I'm active with a lot of activist and equal rights groups, right?" Gramps nodded.

"I invited my friend from my poli sci class to the Women's March and he said no. He told me that he's in complete support of this president and he's not going to march against him."

Gramps looked down at the floor and asked, "How do you feel about that?"

His grandson looked down at the same spot on the floor, "I'm confused. In many ways, he is really great to hang with. I just don't know if I can be around him, now that I know he's okay with someone who has shown he's racist."

Gramps looked across at his grandson's face. He was about the same age as his grandson is now when he entered the resistance.

"This president has not spoken out against several of these hate groups. These groups do not like Jews. They also don't like any Brown, Black or Native people. I don't care what your gay friend does in his bedroom but they don't like the gay people, either. I fought in the resistance. I, in your situation, would not think it's good to have such a friend."

His grandson met his grandfather's gaze. "Integrity is always a choice, isn't it, Gramps."

Gramps smiled.