“Wait! Bob, stop: there’s another temple and it looks like there must be something going on.” I’ll just dash in and take a quick photo. Soon, I was talking to Winnie, an English teacher, while Bob was surrounded by curious men. We’d happened upon a Buddhist celebration revering mothers. How appropriate that I’ve been hearing my mother’s voice telling me about Saigon before I was born. We listened to the chants and gongs and were soon invited to the feast to follow. I watched Winnie tenderly feed her animated 90-year-old grandmother. I told Winnie how lucky she was to still have her mother and grandmother. We tried, unsuccessfully, to fend off the large quantities of food that were being packed for us to ride away with. After meeting with the head monk and making conversation, Bob was able to give our translator the gift of a pair of reading glasses, which he evidently needed.