Last weekend, I decided to take my 92-year-old dad to the mall — something simple, something ordinary. He needed a new pair of shoes, and I figured it would be a nice outing for both of us. Even at his age, he still walks with surprising steadiness, though every step carries the slow grace of someone who’s lived through nearly a century of change.
We wandered from store to store, trying on pairs that were too tight, too loose, too modern — until finally, we found one that fit just right. Dad smiled in quiet satisfaction, like a man who’s learned to appreciate small victories. Afterward, we decided to stop by the food court to rest and have a meal. That’s when something beautiful — and a little unexpected — happened.
We chose a table beside a teenager who immediately caught our attention. His hair was spiked in every direction and painted in bold streaks of green, red, orange, and blue. He was a walking rainbow, full of youth and rebellion. I noticed my father looking at him — not with judgment, but with curiosity, the kind that comes from someone who’s seen the world evolve in ways he never could have imagined.
The teenager noticed too. For a few moments, he fidgeted, pretending not to care, until finally he turned toward my dad and said with a half-smile, “What’s the matter, sir? Never done anything fun in your life?”
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