The headline read "Terrorists hit London."

London, city of the world. Before I had been there I had a very Dickensian idea of what it would be like: foggy, glowing street lamps, dark pubs in cobbled alleyways, lots of ruddy British folks. In reality it is the most international and diverse place I have ever visited. Like New York, London is a magnet for people from every continent and language group. It seemed like it was more common to meet someone that was originally from outside the U.K. than an actual British citizen. The sights, smells and tastes represented every country on the planet. It is a wonderful, atypical place.

I lived there for over a month last spring, and I was a regular rider on the tube. Even then attacks were considered inevitable. I remember one day there was a big scare about the lines being gassed. Papers warned that thousands of people would unknowingly ride to their deaths in the enclosed lanes of the Underground. The threat passed, and people continued to use the tube. There were signs in every corridor reminding riders to report anything suspicious to the security guards at the stations. I even saw bomb sniffing dogs in the Piccadilly station once.

Whoever is responsible for the attacks today did not just attack London. Every car on the tube is like a commercial for international diversity, so the result is an attack on the global community. I am sad for London, and I am praying for a quick recovery. I am sad that humans injure other humans. I am trying to keep these bombings in perspective alongside other events that harm innocent people. I am trying to keep the shock of this event from skewing my sensitivity toward other systems of injustice. But there is something about having been in London recently that makes it affect me very deeply.