Low Toe Yeah

A moment of hard-gained peace is to be cherished.

Thank you, Ninja.

You have been my guiding light through the years. Although times are hard now, I know that our goals are not too far from reach. Keep smiling, keep shining, knowing you can always count on me, for sure.

Thank you, Good.

I am amazed at your ability to offer sensible comments on just about everything. Remember you've got here a friend who would be happy to lend you an ear or a brain cell when you need it.

Alms

Photo: Central, Hong Kong, 31 December 2002

En-route to the 970/970X bus stop as I go to work everyday is a small shop that sells EDO snacks.

It was mid-day today. I passed by the shop and came across an old lady, probably in her 80s. Dressed in typical granny shirt and pants and old black fabric shoes, she seemed a bit scrawny but otherwise quite fit for her age. This was our second encounter.

The first time I saw her, workers at the shop were emptying boxes of goods as they restocked the shop. The lady recieved from the workers empty carboard boxes at the door. Using a pocket knife, she cut open the boxes and carefully folded the cardboard into smaller stacks. On her face was a contented smile that rarely would you see in the faces of people rushing to work.

She was coming out of the shop when I saw her again today.

"Oh, it's not ready yet. That's all right," she said in a slightly disappointed but understanding tone and then sat at the doorstep of the neighboring Motarola store. She took off her denim fisherman hat, exposing drops of sweat amidst a thin layer of silver hair.

I was waiting for the bus and thought about how much longer she would have to wait in the heat for the cardboard boxes. I approached her, and from my wallet I pulled out a small sum of money and said, "Por-Por, here's a little bit of money for Yum-Cha."

"No, I can't, I can't," she said with an embarassed smile.

"But it's such a long wait for the boxes," I replied.

"That's okay. I can wait. Are you waiting for the bus?"

I should tell you by now that I have a habit of giving money (however much I can afford at the time) to old or disabled people on the streets. I have kept this a secret until now because I was taught since childhood that I was not supposed to brag about alms-giving, and that this was supposed to my treasures in heaven (陰德).

But today was different. I, the big philanthropist, thought that the lady would gladly receive my good-will. I HURT HER FEELINGS INSTEAD. I felt about one inch tall when I realized that she would rather rely on her own efforts than anybody's help to survive.

Maybe I should stop my whining altogether on this blog.