He let out a tired but satisfied sigh as he knew that another long day was done...
He began to clean his small cart.
He wiped down the griddle with a small dirty handkerchief.
He then put away his spices and sauces, and counted the day's meager earnings.
In the frying oil, a few small, crispy pieces of leftover meat still floated.
But he did not throw them away.
As if they knew, a few thin, hungry-looking children appeared from a nearby alley.
They were street kids.
One could tell from how their clothes were quite ragged.
They gathered quietly by his cart, their eyes fixed on the scraps.
The old man only smiled.
He scooped the leftover bits of meat from the oil, let them cool for a moment on a piece of paper, and handed them out to the waiting children.
Their small faces lit up as they took the food and ran off.
With his good deed done, he packed up.
He lifted the handles of his heavy wooden cart and began to pull it down the quieting street, heading for home.
