Glow with radiant glow.

This morning, as I rushed to work, hoping to make it at 9:00 am sharp (don’t laugh, people, I’m serious), an old lady came to me with a wrinkled note in her dry, wrinkled palm. I didn’t have time for her—this was what first flashed across my mind, so I spontaneously waved at her and trotted on, not even bothering to listen to her unfinished sentence. A casual glance had me notice the innocent, hopeless look on her face. I felt a sense of guilt drowning me. “Good deeds, Georgia,” I heard this tiny voice screaming all over the pavement as I marched on. So I turned around immediately and raced back to her, panting like a...I have no idea.... Obviously, she’s lost. I gave her directions to the given address, which was wrong since it should have been 羅斯福路 instead of羅福路W hen I punched in, I was one minute late, but no regrets. One minute. It only takes one minute to confess a thought, to say prayers, and to give blessings. It also takes no more than one minute to save someone else’s trouble. Why spare the good deed? I’m starting to like this good-deed concept. One minute.