September 18, 2024.
The date is still carved in my memory, though at that time it was just another day. I had just joined my Chinese language class and everything around me felt new, unfamiliar, almost overwhelming.
That day, I attended the Mid-Autumn Festival event. The room was full of people—Chinese teachers and Bangladeshi students—but back then, I didn't even realize who was who. All I could see was a beautiful scene: two cultures coming together, exchanging laughter, traditions, and warmth.
My friend, confident as always, was busy joining games, winning small prizes, and laughing brightly. I should have felt envy, but strangely, I didn't. Instead, I stood quietly in the corner, holding her bag and mine, simply watching.
The students lined up eagerly to make mooncakes—something I had never seen before. The air was buzzing with joy, but then my eyes caught a little moment on the other side of the room.
A boy was holding a phone, shyly saying "hi" to a Chinese man. The man bent down, smiling warmly, and returned the greeting. It was such a simple scene, yet it touched me deeply, like a moment frozen in time.
I don't know why, but I lifted my phone and snapped a few photos. They weren't perfect—blurry, far away, imperfectly framed—but I thought maybe, if I showed him, he might feel happy.
So, I gathered my courage, walked over, and showed him the picture. He looked at it and said he liked it. His words were simple, but they left me strangely flustered.
Just then, my friend called me, and I turned away to answer her. I thought that was the end of it. But suddenly, someone called me from behind.
I turned—
And there he was.