“Miranda, there are still good people in this world. As soon as I arrived, two young men saw I was lost and immediately offered to help me find my way. I’m really grateful to them,” Bert said with a relieved smile.

Miranda gently reminded him, “Uncle Bert, I go by Miranda now.”

“Oh, right, Miranda. I’ll remember that,” Bert said, tapping his forehead. “Getting old, my memory isn’t what it used to be.”

Bert, though just fifty years old, looked much older, the wear and tear ...