Open hearts. Curious minds. When we are willing to follow them, they lead us well.

Not long ago, they led me to this fiery-haired woman. Five minutes before this photo was taken, I didn’t even know she existed. 

“Excuse me,” she had said, stepping toward me. She was everything bright. Red hair. Yellow clothing. You couldn’t miss her even if she hadn’t spoken. But she did. “Do you mind if I go first?” 

I had been waiting in a long line and had just moved a stockpile of groceries from my cart to the conveyer belt, happy to be next. Finally. I was late, as usual, a chronic clock-fighter who needed to get home and get writing.

“Sure, go ahead,” I replied, the way we do despite ourselves.

The older woman put two bags of pita bread in front of the cashier and then turned back to me. “Thank you,” she said with a relieved smile and a thick accent. “You are good to let me go.”

“Of course. No worries.” I smiled back. Then curiosity took me, the way it has since I was a kid. “Where is your accent from?”

“I’m Persian,” she said, using the old world description for modern-day Iran.

We talked about that and then, with the door to conversation open, she said she appreciated me letting her go ahead because she was rushing to get back to her son who had suffered a heart attack and a stroke.  A mother’s care made foremost, regardless of her age or that of her child. 

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Lillik,” she said.

I told her my name and said I was sorry about her son. I told her I would pray for him.

“You are my angel,” she said, as she stepped toward me and hugged me. I gave her a squeeze in return, remembering in my own times of struggle the way that small acts of kindness felt so big. We snapped this picture as she said, “God bless you,” and then she turned and rushed toward the door.

“And you as well,” I called. My eyes stayed with her, as I stood for a moment in the surprisingly big feeling that came from one small exchange, a fleeting connection between two strangers. When I turned to the cashier, he stood looking at me.

“Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“Oh, I’m not waiting,” he replied. “I’m taking this in. You don’t see this kind of thing every day.”

Maybe not, but again and again, this is how it goes with BIG-little things. I swear they are all around us like joy bubbles. But we have to approach the world in expectation and watch for them. Put down your phone for a few minutes. Look around at all people in your midst. Let someone go first. Hold the door. Say thank you. Ask a question. Smile. We all have a story, a backdrop to our day that is more than what we see on the surface. An open heart and a curious mind can help us to connect even for a moment.

And if, by some further twist of Goodness, you know Lilik, please do me a favor. Give her a hug for me and let her know that I am the grateful one. 

(Please share this flicker of light in a world that could use it. Send this to someone you care about and let me know you’re here with comments and likes below. It’s a lonely place without you.)