Drew handed him twenty yuan.









“Thirty,” begged the old man, which Drew gave him without a flinch. Joy sprung up in the old man’s eyes. He had just earned $4, it was a good day. Poverty is the reality throughout the majority of China.

The old man stood no more than five feet tall, his skin was wrinkled by time, sun, and wind, and he was as thinner than the long stick onto which he had hoisted Drew’s two heavy suitcases, balancing it perfectly over his right shoulder all the way up a long set of stairs that even Drew acknowledged might be difficult to climb carrying only one of his cases.