the syrian refugee

I wanted to share this lovely story that my Canadian friend posted on Facebook. Timothy Dean Lever writes:

Today, on my way home from work, I was stopped by a young gentleman. He said no words, but smiled and held out a piece of paper with an address on it. He pointed to the address and, in attempt to communicate, spoke his native language, which I recognized as Arabic.

I recognized the street, but not the civic number. So in my attempt to communicate, I spoke my native language.. "I'm not sure, but wait.."

He was confused. So was I. But no panic.

I said, "Syria?"

He shook his head yes.

I held up a single finger to wait a minute.

I took my phone out and opened up a rarely used translation app. One you can speak in, in both languages, to hold a conversation. I once used it at work to communicate in French with a customer.

I opened the app and set the languages. I asked the app if he understood this. He smiled. I spoke again to instruct him to speak into it and I will see English. He did so.

I gave him the best direction I could to his street and he understood, smiled, and spoke thank you for everything.

I asked him if he was cold. He had a bulky jacket, gloves, but not a toque!

He said, "cold yes. Snow great". I gave him my second toque I keep in my backpack (just in case I lose my one in my jacket)

He put it on, crooked like me as he pointed to mine. We laughed, He shook my hand and we parted ways.

It's the little things...