Thought after reading a short story "Somehow, deeply touching experience kept coming from the most unexpected places". The time was 1971, a 24-year-old man, Michael was going to build a cabin with two college friends. By then, he had been 'homeless' - living in a caravan - for almost a year, and none of them had a clue of how to build a house, the only one more 'professional' among them was a recent graduate with an Architecture degree. Despite the cluelessness, they "jumped right in with the abandonment of reason that belongs only to the young hippies and crazy people". Turned out these young graduates were not only fearless, but penniless, in the sense that they could only afford unprocessed timber, trees cut into chunks. The couple who owned the timber workshop helped them out a lot, and one day invited them over for dinner. The young graduates were absolutely over the moon, for that it would be the very first time in a year they could eat in a house, not barbecue in the wilderness. The sentence at the beginning was Michael’s reflection about the dinner. I didn’t have the luxury of taking any adventure nearly as dramatic and exhilarating as building a cabin in the woods fresh out of college, so that I was mostly deprived of deeply touching experience which usually manifests itself as someone gets out of a tough time. But this short story reminded me of my solo ski trip to Vail, of caring hostel staff who helped me when I tumbled on the floor in my ski boots, of a bus driver who speeded up so that I could catch the connecting bus, of a Vail native who carried my gear to the ticket office just to “make me feel welcomed”, of a ski patrol who gave me a free lesson voucher when he saw me hesitating before a “steep” slope on the piste. These seemingly small gestures were like a cup of hot chocolate in that icy winter which warded off the cold.