Sharing is caring!

We forget that people have the same feelings regardless of where they live in the world or color or religion or some other defining characteristic. I heard a news story about people of Oriental descent being harassed or bullied because of the “China Virus.” One day in Vietnam, I went in search of a Vietnamese woman to tell her about the death of someone she loved. She knew me because the man who died had introduced her to me. She greeted me with a smile. I asked her to sit down beside me, and her face immediately changed. She knew the news was terrible. After I told her of his death, she started to cry, and I put my arms around her. I held her until she could cry no more. I remember the smell of her hair. It was the smell of incense. The kind burned in a home shrine. They were called joss sticks. [I’m not sure if the spelling is correct for joss.] I wondered if they had been burned in hopes of the man coming home safely. My shirt was soaked with tears by the time she could look up at me. Her eyes were red with grief. She wanted to apologize for breaking down at the news. I remember telling her anywhere in the world, anyone would cry at the news I brought. We are all the same in grief. We are all the same in more ways than we are different.