Today, as I waited for the garbage truck by the roadside, I got lost in a moment that stuck with me even after it passed. It wasn’t a big or thrilling scene, but it felt a bit sad.

I heard the garbage truck’s sound in the distance, and I noticed a rich-looking boy walking down the street. He seemed quite well-off, which stood out in our ordinary neighborhood.

The boy and his aunt went into a shop together, laughing as they walked. A short while later, the boy came out alone, looking relaxed. His aunt was a bit behind him. Then he spotted a half-empty juice bottle on the ground, a little far away from me. Without thinking much, he picked it up and said,

“I dropped it when I came here.”

I thought the boy might have felt a sense of responsibility and accountability, even in seemingly trivial matters like picking up litter. Perhaps he was conscious of the impression he might leave on others, including me, by being seen picking up the bottle from the roadside. The thoughtfulness and consideration exhibited by the boy hinted at a deeper sense of integrity and respect for the environment.

I smiled and told him to drop it in my garbage bag. But I realized he claimed ownership only to take the half-trailed, empty bottle back with him. After a couple of steps away from me, undeterred by its previous abandonment, he brought the bottle to his lips. The innocence of his actions shines through despite the unconventional circumstances. I did not have time to stop him. Without paying attention to anything else, he took a sip. He looked relaxed, despite the fact that a bystander would think it was weird and gross.

Curiosity piqued, and I inquired why he would drink from a discarded bottle, although it was his.

“I dropped it here when I saw my father coming towards me.”

He replied and drank it again. And he continued,

“Now that my father is gone, I am drinking it. Otherwise, he would beat me.”

His voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixed on the ground, unable to meet my gaze. The words tumbled out, tinged with a mixture of anxiety, guilt, and shame, painting a vivid picture of the complex emotions swirling within him. His response, delivered with an innocence that belied his youth, struck a chord within me.

In that simple exchange, I found a profound lesson on the resilience of the human spirit. Despite the circumstances, this young boy had found a moment of joy amidst the mundane. His actions reminded me how important it is to find joy in surprising places and to accept life’s flaws with grace and thankfulness.

As the garbage truck passed by, I thought about how lucky we are to see things from different angles. We can find happiness even when things are tough and turn simple times into special ones. In a world where things can be confusing, it’s these small moments that show us how amazing people can be.

But I couldn’t shake one question from my mind: was it a good thing that he was so afraid of his father, or should I be worried?

If you have anything to share or give feedback and suggestions, I will be happy to see it in the comments. Or you can use my email:

mypurehand@gmail.com

to drop some of your comments and tips. Thank you.