Unable to shake the grin from my face, I ramble on and on about random stories that come to my mind and I find somewhat relate to the situation. My parents glance at each other, across from me at the small table in the dimly lit at the quiet Chinese restaurant. I throw my head back and laugh at the story being told to me. I’ve heard it many times before and I always find it funny. I look around the restaurant, only to see a few tables of older people scattered around the restaurant. They quietly talk amongst themselves as they eat. Our table seems to have the most life and energy.

My giggles seem endless throughout the entire meal and don’t stop until we leave the building and I’m faced with the reality of the harsh winds and how hard it became to walk suddenly. Only then, do I realize how warm and happy that building was.