A classmate of mine from my days of studying Chinese recently opened her very own business here. It dawned on me today that I hadn't yet gone to see her new office. It just so happened that I was meeting a friend next door so the two of us went over together. We chatted for a while and thoroughly congratulated our friend, as opening your own business here is no cake walk.
Leaving, we waited for the elevator. As it came the doors opened there stood an old
woman in a long skirt, long-sleeved blouse, and head scarf pinned under her chin. She looked as if she belonged on a village farm more than she did this modern office building in the heart of a modern, bustling city. She started to get off and muttered something in Uyghur. My friend, also a Uyghur, showed her that we were on the 7th floor. She turned back into the elevator and began talking to my friend. The two of them chatted all the way down, with her giving me the occasional glance.
After leaving the building, I learned the content of their short conversation. The woman was from a rural village in the south of this province. Her son had come to the city for university, graduated and having settled down, brought his parents to the city to visit. "This is my first time in a big city. I'm just so thankful to God to be here and to be talking to you two today." She had to be 65 or 70 years old and here she was, just enjoying an elevator ride (it's safe to say there are no elevators where she lives.) My friend replied with some pleasentries about how good a son she had and wished her good health.
The whole thing took 30 seconds. Yet I walked away feeling I had just witnessed something profound. In the midst of a crowded, busy, noisy, city full of people rushing after money and cars and the latest gadgets, I found gratitude. I found someone that didn't take for granted an elevator ride and the chance to talk to two city dwellers. I had to ask myself, had it ever occurred to me to be thankful for an elevator ride? Not likely. It did remind me that life is full of simple pleasures not to be taken for granted.
Leaving, we waited for the elevator. As it came the doors opened there stood an old
woman in a long skirt, long-sleeved blouse, and head scarf pinned under her chin. She looked as if she belonged on a village farm more than she did this modern office building in the heart of a modern, bustling city. She started to get off and muttered something in Uyghur. My friend, also a Uyghur, showed her that we were on the 7th floor. She turned back into the elevator and began talking to my friend. The two of them chatted all the way down, with her giving me the occasional glance.
After leaving the building, I learned the content of their short conversation. The woman was from a rural village in the south of this province. Her son had come to the city for university, graduated and having settled down, brought his parents to the city to visit. "This is my first time in a big city. I'm just so thankful to God to be here and to be talking to you two today." She had to be 65 or 70 years old and here she was, just enjoying an elevator ride (it's safe to say there are no elevators where she lives.) My friend replied with some pleasentries about how good a son she had and wished her good health.
The whole thing took 30 seconds. Yet I walked away feeling I had just witnessed something profound. In the midst of a crowded, busy, noisy, city full of people rushing after money and cars and the latest gadgets, I found gratitude. I found someone that didn't take for granted an elevator ride and the chance to talk to two city dwellers. I had to ask myself, had it ever occurred to me to be thankful for an elevator ride? Not likely. It did remind me that life is full of simple pleasures not to be taken for granted.