I noticed her when I was watching car after car turn onto the road leading to the international airport and wondering where the occupants must be heading. She was a little girl selling plastic models of airplanes. The traffic signal had just turned green so she didn't have any car windows to tap on. As I watched her she retreated to the area below the bridge and started wandering aimlessly.

I was about to look away when she twirled once and then kept twirling. Her face broke into a grin as she looked at someone who was sitting below the bridge – most probably her mom or someone from her family. Only when she looked at her skirt as she twirled away did I realize that maybe she had worn it for the first time that day. From a distance, it looked bright with lots of colors – probably not a hand-me-down then, I fervently hoped.

As my AC bus pulled away, my mind flashed to the moment when I had got into the bus and fumed inwardly at all the people sitting at the west-facing windows. The bus wasn't crowded, the AC was going full-blast, I had got a window seat but none of these luxuries had mattered because I was forced to sit where I didn't want to.

And here was the little girl – probably without a proper home, with no chance of educating herself, forced to earn her livelihood by standing in the merciless sun inhaling vehicle exhaust all day and yet she managed to find it in her heart to smile and have fun with whatever life fate had doled out to her.

Should I be complaining – I asked myself. NO WAY – I answered back. Unfortunately, I know from past experiences that this lesson isn't going to stick forever. I will be back to my complaining self sooner rather than later.

I wonder if it is because I haven't paid any price to learn it? :-(