The Chinese Man.

So sweet, so true.

Hope* the happy hugger

Hong Kong 1When we boarded a connecting flight from Honk Kong to Johannesburg, we were utterly exhausted. My nerves were, to say the least, a little on edge.
The lack of sleep did not help the situation much. When we were in the air, the flight attendant gave us the usual warm facecloth and offered us fresh juice. My little girl, who was parched, happily took a glass of orange juice. No sooner had she taken a sip had she dropped the juice. I was drying her with a tissue and used my facecloth to mop up the rest of the juice.
As I was bending over trying to help my little daughter, who felt awful about dropping her juice, I heard a soft foreign voice just next to me saying “hello.”  I looked up and saw a Chinese man handing me his facecloth. He looked just as tired as we were…

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