Happiness is a warm gun.

As I sat reminiscing on happiness, it wasn’t exactly easy to come up with something to pick and write about. The deal is, in my whole 19 years so far I’ve lived a life of happiness. My family is incredible. I’ve been blessed with phenomenal friends of all ages and the experiences I’ve had traveling still marvel me. I’ve had a great life. Scratch that. An awesome life. Happiness fills the pages of my story and I dare say true happiness holds many chapters.

From the late birth of my nephew to jamming out in my room, from being surrounded by loved ones to dancing it out, I find happiness frequently. Then there are the times when I get blown away and happiness comes up unexpectedly . . .

I was hungry. Starved to the stomach and it was only noon, When I decided to go without food and spend meal times with God, I hadn’t considered how killer the delicious aroma of the Thai food cooking next door would be. Sitting up in my room, distraction came in the form of sticky rice, pad thai, morning glory greens with chillies. Mouth watering wretchedness. I hopped out of the house and took off the opposite direction. The thing about Thailand is that there are these delicious food stands everywhere. And today there seemed to be more of them. I stopped in front of this particular fruit stand and I felt the urge. “Buy it!” Ha. No. I went to turn away and felt it again. “Buy it!” This wasn’t my stomach talking. I’d felt this nudging before . . .

I pulled out ample even baht and pointed to the juicy green guava and sour mango (which they eat with sugar and chillies). With a ‘kap kun ka” I was off. “Okay God, what’s next?”

A few days earlier I had gone out with a group to find the area of where the local street kids would hang out. This place came to mind. I had only been there once. Mae Sot streets look way too much a like, but what the heck! I started my wander into the direction of the market. The market is crazy, over packed with way too many people and way too much food.

Stumbling through the rows and rows of Burmese selling clothes, I found it. The ghetto empty street just as I had seen it before. I looked around. No kinds. Waited. Still no kids. Went to leave, then looked back and aha, a familiar face. A Burmese boy of about 8 years old flashed the biggest smile.

“Bingalaba!” I called out.

“Hello! How are you?” He shouted really loud in broken English.

We high-fived and stood smiling awkwardly. (Gotta love language barriers!)

He shouted something and a little crew of about 5 kiddos came over. Of course, they were all shouting “Hello!” really loud! I pulled out the fruit and handed it to a scrawny little guy who probably hadn’t eaten at all. Hesitantly he took it and I motioned that it was for all of them. Smiles erupted as the message came across. Then came the putting together of hands and bowing. I watched as they gobbled up the fruit. So many smiles. So much joy. All for 20 baht fruit. The high-fives and waves took place again then I started my walk back with an idiotic smile on my face.

True happiness swept over when I least expected it to. And those are the best times!

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