For two days I was running around Flushing, looking for a room for Mr. Z. He and his wife are my old friends, much older than me in their ages and the friendship is as old as almost twenty years.
They decided to move from Boston to New York, for a new job and a new place to stay. I went to pick Mr. Z up and sent him into a hotel for one night, bringing him to the apartment I found for him and showing him around for some necessities. I was exhausted, coming home at midnight every day.
My mum was getting annoyed, claiming that I always did good to others without getting any reward.
I know she is still irritated at them, because they didn’t keep their words. When my mum came to USA for my graduation, Ms. L, the wife promised to accompany her to New York, since she herself was also coming for her son’s graduation. However, she failed to keep her words, and even almost ruined my mum’s schedule. Finally, my mum came by herself, with a lot of difficulties, at age 79, and of course, I was tortured by worries until the moment when she was pushed out of the inspection in a wheelchair at JFK.
I was unhappy, too. Actually, very unhappy. Still, now I am doing my best to help them. I do what I can, which makes me relieved, not just for them.
Little by little I realize that there is no absolute fairness in this world. I used to be a persistent fighter for fairness and believed in “1=1”. Now I doubt about it, and this question might remain as my motto, or at least the principal of survival.