The small shop erupted into laughter. The women were giggling, bent over doing manicures and pedicures on their uncomprehending clients, as the man guffawed on the cell phone’s FaceTime app. They were all chatting away in Vietnamese, to each other and to him, and every minute or so, hahahahahaaaa!

Watching them and listening, I sat there, grinning. I couldn’t help it. I had no idea what they were talking about, but it must’ve been hilarious!

The man on the phone – maybe he was the brother of one of the workers. Maybe he was telling them about his  new boss, doing crazy things. Or maybe he was someone’s boyfriend, talking about his morning at university, where something very silly happened. Or perhaps he was someone’s grown son, talking about a funny movie he’d just seen the night before.

Suddenly I had a crystal-clear vision. These Vietnamese-born women, and the man, all laughing. Muslim people laughing… not so much now, though. We Jewish folks, usually up for a good joke. Brazilians laughing. Mexicans. South Africans. Italians. Greeks. Indians. Tibetans. Inuit. Ethiopians… all of us, at some point, finding humour in life. It binds us together as human beings.

As do tears. Certainly, as do tears.

For my minuscule contribution to this tie that binds us: starting today, I will offer one joke per week. I’ll try to make it worthy of your laughter – or at least a chuckle. Here’s the first.

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