One Sunday Uncle Ping sat with them, sharing out sweets.

“My niece and I were wondering if you would ballroom with

us next Sunday?”

Cherry touched Weng’s sleeve.
“I think you would be successful if you tried.”

Uncle Ping said, “We’re not getting any younger.”

Then he gave Weng another sweet.

“C’mon,” Cherry said. “You may as well try.”

But Weng just stared at the sweet in his hand.

“Bashful?” Uncle Ping said. “Nothing wrong with that.”