Black Velvet Sweater - 100-word snippet

When I was about four years old, my mother made me a beautiful black velvet sweater. She put it on me one cold morning. That was my only layer and it did not keep me warm. I shivered and my teeth chattered as I was buying sweet rice from a street vendor. I was not comfortable, but everywhere I went, I received a compliment about the black velvet sweater. I was a quiet child and did not complain. Perhaps I was too cold to talk. I learned at the early age that you cannot judge the book by its cover.