There came a blizzard one day last winter. The next day it was freezing, and it became difficult to travel on the roads, which had turned treacherously slippery. A lot of people, as a result, fell and got injured.

Despite the weather I had to go out because I had promised to meet one of my friends somewhere at 15.00. When I left home at 14.30, Mother cautioned me to be extra careful on the road.

In the beginning I watched my steps as I was making my way along the pavement with Mother’s words in mind. About a quarter later I went off guard since I had not slipped at all. I was thus proceeding smoothly ahead when, all of a sudden, I missed my footing and fell. I ended up on all my fours on the pavement.

It hurt like hell. I struggled furiously to pull myself up but to no avail. A lot of passers-by went by without bothering to offer me a hand.

I was having a hard time down there on the pavement when a mature male voice came from overhead, “Girl, give me your hand so that I could pull you up, OK?”

I looked up into a warm smiling face. It was a middle-aged man, about my father’s age. “Thanks a lot,” I replied. I extended my hand and grasped his.

Supported by the stranger’s arm, I finally got back on my feet. I expressed my appreciation again and the man just looked at me smilingly. He was about to go away when I suddenly found my sight failing. The world around was becoming a blur. So scared was I that my expression must have changed.

My grimace alarmed the man. Sensing that something had gone awry, he asked me what was the matter. After learning about my condition, he offered to take me to hospital. I agreed.

Taxis were few and far between in such weather. It was quite a while before the man managed to flag one down. With his help, I settled in. On the way the man asked me for my parents’ mobile numbers. Scarcely had I been checked into the Emergency Unit at the hospital when my parents arrived. The man left us after I was safely with my parents.

The doctor at the Emergency Unit examined me, and I was diagnosed as suffering from hypoglycaemia. “Nothing serious, girl,” he said. “But you’ll have to eat your meals properly.”

My messy eating habits popping into my mind, I realised I myself was to blame for the condition. The diet I was on must have deprived me of some important nutrients. Yes, I would have to forget about the weight issue.

About a week later, my parents contacted the uncle who had gone out of his way to help me out in the emergency. We invited Mr Ma the kind man to dinner to express our gratitude. He accepted it, and we have been friends ever since.

Last winter was frigid, but the complete stranger’s act of kindness warmed me throughout.