A bus was bumping along a backroad in the south of India.
In one seat sat an old man, holding a bunch of fresh flowers. Across the aisle was a young girl whose eyes came back again and again to the flowers.
The time came for the old man to get off the bus. Impulsively, he thrust the flowers into the girl’s lap.
“I can see you love the flowers,” he explained, “and I think my wife would like you to have them. I’ll tell her I gave them to you.”
The girl took the flowers with a smile, then watched the old man get off the bus and walk through the gate of a small cemetery.