I work at a small flower stall on a busy street, and it’s a peaceful job—early mornings, fresh flowers, and the occasional friendly face.
For the past couple of weeks, a man has been stopping by regularly. Each time, he buys a single rose and, instead of keeping it, hands it to me with a soft smile and a nod, no words exchanged. At first, I thought he was shy or just trying to build up the courage to speak, which I found charming in a mysterious way.
But today, my curiosity got the best of me. As he handed me the rose again, I finally asked, “Let’s get to know each other. Who are you?”
He paused, then pulled out a small folded piece of paper from his pocket. On it, he had written: “I’m deaf and mute. I come here because I like seeing you smile.”
I was speechless, overwhelmed by the quiet kindness I had unknowingly been receiving all along.
