We find beauty in the strangest places

Today on my bus ride, there were these two old Hmong ladies. They were such tiny, old wrinkled women. One of them had what must have been a 50kg bag of rice on her back and the other one was carrying grocery. They were talking to each other and smiling. They looked like such happy old women.

I couldn't help thinking of Mpalale and the people I knew there when I saw these two ladies. My Amayi were both pretty young, and Lidia was my age, but there were many old women who carried fire wood or water on their heads every morning. They were always happy to see us and shake our hands, and say hello.

I remember Annie talking about a really old Amayi in Chickanda whose face was all weathered and wrinkled. Annie was saying how beautiful and wise her face looked. The old faces in Africa were always the most beautiful to me. They were where I found hope and peace and wisdom.

I'm always amazed at the places I find beauty. I find it in the lines of a woman's face, and in Lidia's voice when she sings, and Dyna when she was making us laugh or Beatrice when she was talking to us.

Today, I found beauty and peace in these happy old women carrying rice in a neighborhood in south Minneapolis.