A Stranger's Kindness
Steven Corbin
©
Copyright 2024 by Steven Corbin
|
An alley in Da Nang. Photo courtesy of the author. |
Steven,
a traveler from Canada, wandered through Da Nang, captivated by the
city’s vibrant chaos. The air was rich with the aroma of
sizzling street food, the sounds of motorbikes weaving through narrow
streets, and the laughter of locals enjoying their evening. The warm
golden hue of the setting sun bathed the city in a soft glow, casting
long shadows that danced with the rhythm of life around him. Each
corner Steven turned revealed something new—a bustling market,
an old temple, or a quiet alley—offering fresh perspectives on
a world so different from his own.
Steven
had embarked on this journey through Vietnam not merely as a tourist,
but as a seeker. Back in Canada, he had felt a growing sense of
restlessness, a feeling that his life lacked direction and deeper
meaning. His days had blurred into a monotonous routine, leaving him
yearning for something more—a sense of purpose, a connection to
the broader world. He hoped that immersing himself in a culture
distinct from his own would provide new insights, inspiration, and
perhaps a clearer sense of his path in life.
It
was during one of these wanderings that Steven’s path crossed
with that of an older man, whose name he never quite grasped. The man
sat outside a modest home, perched on a low wooden stool, his face a
map of deep lines etched by time and experience. He wore a simple yet
dignified outfit—an old, worn shirt and trousers, with a
traditional conical hat resting on his knee. Despite his humble
appearance, there was an aura of quiet dignity about him, tempered by
a warm, inviting smile that seemed to welcome all who passed by.
As
Steven approached, the man spoke in slow Vietnamese, his tone as
inviting as his gesture. “Chào bạn,” he
greeted, motioning Steven closer. Though Steven’s Vietnamese
was limited, he understood enough to respond with a polite nod and a
simple “Chào.” The man gestured toward a small
bottle filled with a clear liquid—rice wine, a local specialty.
“Rượu,” he said, offering a cup to Steven and
raising his own in a toast.
With
a smile, Steven accepted the cup. They clinked their cups together,
and Steven took a sip, the strong, sharp flavor of the wine
surprising him. Despite the language barrier, there was an unspoken
understanding between them—a shared curiosity and openness that
bridged the gap. The old man spoke, gesturing animatedly, his hands
weaving stories that Steven could only partially grasp. He caught
words about family, the city, and perhaps a bit of local history,
each snippet adding to the tapestry of the evening.
The
old man brought out a small plate of food, local dishes Steven had
never seen before. He gestured for Steven to eat, watching with a
kind of paternal pride as Steven sampled each dish. The flavors were
a revelation—spicy, sweet, sour, each bite a new experience.
They ate and drank together, the old man occasionally refilling their
cups and offering toasts that Steven joined with laughter.
As
the evening wore on, Steven felt a pleasant warmth from the rice
wine, loosening his thoughts and relaxing his mind. The conversation,
though still stilted and fragmented by the language barrier, flowed
more easily. The old man’s laughter was infectious, and Steven
found himself laughing along, caught up in the simple joy of the
moment.
Yet,
as the night deepened, Steven felt a growing sense of melancholy. He
wanted to express his gratitude to the old man, to thank him for his
kindness and generosity, for the unexpected gift of this shared
experience. But the limitations of language left him feeling
helpless, unable to fully convey the depth of his appreciation. He
tried, fumbling with the few Vietnamese phrases he knew, interspersed
with English in the hope that some meaning would seep through. “Cảm
ơn,” he said, placing a hand over his heart, hoping the
gesture would communicate what words could not.
The
old man nodded, his eyes twinkling with a kindness that suggested he
understood more than Steven realized. In that moment, Steven felt a
pang of sadness—a longing for a deeper connection, for the
ability to bridge the gap between their worlds. Yet, there was also a
profound beauty in the simplicity of their interaction, in the shared
silence that spoke volumes.
The
night grew darker, and Steven knew it was time to leave. He stood,
offering the old man a respectful bow, which was graciously returned.
As he stepped back into the street, he felt a mixture of
emotions—gratefulness for the kindness shown to him, a wistful
sadness for the limitations of language, and a joyful appreciation
for the simple, shared moments that often carried the most profound
meanings.
Walking
back to his apartment, the memory of the evening lingered with
Steven. He thought about the old man’s quiet dignity, his
generous spirit, and the warmth of his hospitality. The encounter had
left a lasting mark on Steven, a reminder of the kindness of
strangers and the unexpected connections that travel could bring. It
was a lesson in humility and gratitude, a recognition of the shared
humanity that transcended cultural and linguistic barriers.
The
next morning, as he continued his journey through Vietnam, Steven
carried with him not just the memories of sights and flavors, but the
intangible, yet invaluable, lessons of empathy and gratitude. He knew
that the old man would remain a part of his story, a quiet influence
that would shape his perspective and actions long after he had left
Vietnam.
The
true essence of travel was not merely about seeing new places or
tasting new foods, but about the people he met along the way—the
fleeting yet meaningful encounters that enriched his understanding of
the world and his place in it.
In
the end, it wasn’t the words exchanged or the rice wine shared
that mattered most, but the understanding and respect that passed
between them. Steven learned that sometimes, the most profound
expressions of gratitude and connection are found not in words, but
in shared silence and the unspoken language of the heart.
I
am an aspiring writer with a passion for creating compelling stories.
Hailing from Trois-Rivières
in Québec, Canada,
I have a diverse background that includes a bachelor's degree in
Human Resources and a diploma in Psychology. An avid traveler, my
love for cultural experiences and simple, meaningful moments often
finds its way into my writing, making my work resonate with readers
on a deep emotional level.
(Unless
you
type
the
author's name
in
the subject
line
of the message
we
won't know where to send it.)
Book
Case
Home
Page
The
Preservation Foundation, Inc., A Nonprofit Book Publisher