It’s early in the morning – 6:45am. I’m sitting behind two little girls, maybe ages 4 and 6, on the train. Their mother is sitting beside them, anchoring the fuschia stroller holding a little baby brother or sister. The girls are being giggly, even at this early hour. They toss their heads back in peals of laughter, their shiny black hair glistening in the light. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it must be hilarious. Their mother shushes them as if their joy might somehow overpower the din of the train’s ventilation system. I smile to myself, watching those little girls, because they remind me of my two sons when they were that age and able to find endless reasons to cackle with glee.
I’ve seen them a few times before: the same fuschia stroller, the mother, and the two little girls who are contagiously happy. Well, I guess their joy is only contagious if you notice them, laughing at their own preschool jokes. Most everyone around me is focused only on their phones, never seeing the smiles and laughter that are right in front of them. Unlike the common cold (which is also generously shared on the train), the joy of these girls is only contagious if you see them.
Most commuters, including me, view the train as a means to get to and from work. They see their jobs as a means to pay the bills. Their days are a blur, moving from one place to another, never really seeing life and the world. These two little girls show me that there is life happening right under our noses if we will just notice it. There is joy in the mundane, and smiles are free. I smile at the girls and their mother as I get off the train, carrying that memory of contagious joy into my day. Who knows where else I’ll find it?