There is a man, On the corner with a tea shop, All Asian and small.
Tidy stacks of newspapers from two weeks.
One snowy day I had found this tiny little shop, Walking in the small old man got up and asked me what I'd like. I said whatever was on the hand. He nodded and asked me my name and he sat me down in a Comfy chair worn down by people sitting in it.
'Not many people today?'
'No, Many people do not care for my tea anymore.' he said with a frown.
He told me his life story, He told me about the camps and how it killed his mother and sister, taken by sickness. His father was a man full of pride and he died of starvation because his pride was to great to eat American man food. He was raised by Irish people who talked about their homeland, Of Ireland and He said it was his dream to take them home. But as he did, they died of old age after they had gotten to their old home back, He said they died from happiness.
It was getting late by then. I told him I had to go and he nodded i asked if I could come back and he nodded.
I stopped by everyday learning more and more about tea and the old man, I never knew his name
but he called me "Susumu- Suzume" I asked what it meant and he laugh and say another time.
One month later he was on his death bed, I was his only "Family" His children left for America and his love of his life died a week earlier. He said 'She's calling me to her....'
But he rested his hand over mine and said, 'Susumu- Suzume, Its means Progressing Sparrow...I'ev watched you grow up and now.." The machine beeped and doctor's and nurses came rushing in and pushed me aside.
A week later I got a phone call saying that I had now owned the 'Otoko To Kokoro' Wich meant,
'Man With A Heart'
[Short Story I wrote for school]
