A family, husband-wife-son, got onto the elevator with us yesterday.
The husband is a nice guy who speaks English and always says hello. He was very kind when I asked him to stop smoking at the condo meeting, and he also asked others to stop smoking during the meeting. He was going to drive his son to school, as he did every morning.
The wife speaks no English, but always smiles and says hello to us when we meet She is a lovely woman, always clean looking with neat clothes even when she walks to the market. We often see her stopping to talk to little children and caressing them with generous smiles.
This morning in the elevator, she was straightening her son’s uniform (all school children must wear a uniform–white shirt, red scarf, blue trousers or dress) with so much love that it permeated the air of the elevator and created an aura of gentle peace. Her son just stood there (he is about 11 years old) while his mother helped him. I cannot imagine an American child letting their mother do that in public without fidgeting or moving away.
How could we ever have made war on these kind and gentle people?
I love life in Vietnam.