Walk to La Feria

My Grandma once told me about the man she loved. He loved to send letters, and spent hours writing them. She saved every letter he ever wrote to her in a box. This story was from one of the many letters he sent her:
(letters originally in Spanish)

Today I was walking and thinking of you. I passed houses on my way to la feria (the open air market) from our house. The sun was setting over the water, and I could smell the salt sprayed into the air by the waves. As I walked I passed an old man. He was dressed nicely, but he looked sad, and his coat was buttoned up wrong. As I walked I thought, why was his coat buttoned that way? Had he not noticed? I passed a mother with two children that ran around her, and I missed my own children. I passed the nice houses with gates and saw that there was nobody in the yards, the blinds were closed. There were no children playing. I thought that I would not trade with them. I reached la feria and bought colored string, and paper for this letter. As I walked back I passed the same old man again. He looked happier than before. His coat was buttoned right, and I smiled as I wondered who had fixed it, and who had made him happy. There is beauty everywhere.