I pass them by everyday, migrants from the provinces, on the streets of the city, pulling and pushing, their heavy loads, on bikes and on foot, male and female, old and even older, weariness in their eyes, wrinkles on their forehead, under the Shanghai sky.
And they remind me every single day, that I have it easy, that I should thank my lucky stars, that my small problems are petty, that life could be so much more difficult, and that someone has handed me a great card this time around…
Leave a Reply