Watching kindness, as it took shape, the exchanges of two complete strangers from a train, translated…
“I’m sorry, this is my seat, but it’s fine, I like the window seats, I will trade seats with you”, there’s that sunshine shining through his smiles, that uncle had the innocence of a child.
The settled in the aisle woman who was sliding on her cell phone, noted something, was on her way to get up, then, settled back down by his gentleman nature.
The shot conversation that came on February 28th, on the northbound high-speed rail, the two only exchanged words for no more than three short seconds. Then the train started moving, and everything fell, silent then.
I was seated to the left back side to them, and was moved by what I saw. Because this unplanned, unexpected kindness of exchange between people, it wasn’t set up like in the movies, planned. The sense of kindness that came from within, that unaffected, unannounced, not only does it calm oneself, but also, made others around them feel settled in, so rare in encounter, surely, they are people with the experiences, the morale, and the, stories too.
I straighten up my back, felt compelled to tell the man thank you on behalf of the woman.
We all must’ve had the instances when we were walking in the rain in a typhoon, with the trials that came with every single step, and, no sight of hope; but, are there, a different means of interactions to be had, if we can’t dodge it, then, why not just, trek through it? Easier said than done, but how can we, not scapegoat on someone else around us, when we are, having it bad? Only those who’d experienced the pains at their most painful, can understand the happiness that comes with the, ordinary.
The ride of an hour and a half, the train took us across half the island, before February 28th, the war was already in the distances, happening. Wherever there’s people, there are, conflicts, but, this period of time that’s compressed, the two individuals sitting next to one another, aren’t enemies, but they’d, not exchanged another word more, such a shame.
The P.A. came on on the trains: Banciao Station approaching. That woman got up, tipped her toes, silently, picked up the luggage she’d set down on the right front of her seat. Before she got off, she’d turned toward the man, smiled, and, nodded to acknowledge him. The gratitude was passed without the verbal communications, they’re, already, acquainted. Getting along by themselves, not disturbing each other. Forgetting this meeting that they had, leaving the warmth of the interactions behind, parting ways.
Being a bystander, my purpose, is to witness all of this, to know, that love is still, passed around in this world.
And so, this showed, how the kindness of a stranger can touch someone so deeply, and, hopefully, the writer who was a bystander, can take this act of a kindness s/he encountered from the strangers s/he saw on the trains, to others around her/him.