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He moved a little in the chair, placed his left leg above his right one making himself more comfortable. He was really tired. The radio was broadcasting the "hippopotamus" at the moment, a funny song sung by a little girl. This little girl wanted a "hippo" for her Christmas present. Her mother warned her that the hippo would "eat her" she replied that the Hippopotamus was a "vegetarian." She announced proudly that not only did she like the "hippo," but the "hippo" also liked her. Dr. Ming couldn't help to smile, he always liked this song, and he liked the strong rhythm of the music, the tender voice of the little girl. Most of all, he liked the confidence shown by the little girl in this song. It reminded him about his own daughter. She was a confident little girl too. In his memory, the only time she was confused was on his departure in Beijing Airport. At the time, only the travelers were allowed to get into the hall of the terminals. A rope with stickers separated the hall of the ticket selling offices and the hall of the terminals. In the entrance, several stone-faced custom officers were working efficiently. They let the travelers go, and blocked the way of their loved ones. Dr. Ming stepped across the line with his carry-on luggage, his wife and daughter were stopped. Dragging his wheeled red luggage toward the gates, he could still see his little daughter standing there, in her two piece green dress, staring at him. She was confused. She looked so little, so helpless. Her mom bent over her and said something in her ear. She hesitated, and then reached her little hand for him, her soft, little pink fingers clutching air. Dr. Ming felt that his heart was suddenly torn by steel claws. He turned his head, dragged his uncontrollable luggage, and trudged into the boarding gate.
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