Everyone Has A Story

I went to the nail salon yesterday with my sister. She wanted to get a pedi. I had already had one this week, but knowing she just wanted company, I went and decided to get a manicure. I don't usually paint my nails. I am way too hard on my hands and if I do paint them, they seem to get chipped in no time. Besides, I have to keep them short because I play viola and the nails get in the way. I, of course, took FOREVER to pick a color (I am very conservative in my dress and don't like loud, bright or attention getting colors or items. Some might call it boring, I like the term classic?) The nail tech was this sweet little lady with the cutest little voice. She could speak English pretty well. I don't remember for the life of me how the conversation started (I didn't bring it up, I promise!) but she just started pouring out her life story to me. She was from Korea. He mother was Korean and her father was a black American soldier. Her father left after the war and her mother abandoned her when she was two. The Koreans hated her because she was half American and she said she was treated badly. She came to America when she was only 17. She talked about working hard and saving up to buy her first car. She then smiled and told me that two years ago she finally saved enough to buy her own house all by herself. My heart just broke for her when she told me that she was trying to get pregnant for years and just had a miscarriage a few months ago. She said she "just wasn't good at it". I wanted to just hug her! It's so unfair sometimes how one person can get dealt such a difficult hand in life. I told her I was so impressed by her drive to make a better life for herself. I don't know why she choose to share her story with me. I wished I could have comforted her. All I could do was let her know she was not alone in her struggles and that she should be proud of herself. I hope, in some small way, it helped.