Meeting a master beggar

The little boy that approached me couldn't have been much more than 10. His cheeks were rosy, creating a clear contrast

with his dark yellow skin. His red windbreaker fluttered in the wind as he asked me in the most tender voice possible: "Big brother, what time is it?"

He looked so innocent and cute. I chuckled as I pulled out my cell phone to look at the time. I half expected the boy's mother to rush in at any moment and usher him away, but as I took a quick look around I noticed no one who looked like the boy's mother.