Strangers Who Make Me Happy

I see him on Monday mornings and every other odd day of the week. He would lean against the railings with a smile on his face and call out good morning to the regulars who use the bicycle parking lot. He always wishes me a good morning as I ride past him on my way to park the bicycle. Then, as I head towards the train station, he would send me off cheerily, “Itteirasshai!”, to which I would always reply, “Ittekimasu!” Some days, he’s busy with other customers who want to park their bicycles. Some days, when it’s raining, he’ll stay inside the small office building. But even on those days, he would smile or nod at me and send me off silently. He reminds me of my father, who always tells me to take care when I go out and who I would sometimes catch looking out from the window after I left home.

She works at the bakery inside the station. I am not sure which days she usually works. All I can say is that she sometimes have shifts on Friday nights. I restock my bread supply for the weekend on Fridays and that’s when I met her. The first thing I noticed was her smile. Her smile lit up her face, not like an intense brightness that hurt your eyes but more like a warm glow that made you feel comfortable. She was cheery but not in a fake, annoying way. You know, there are some cashiers who make me feel nervous for taking some time to look for change. In Japan, they don’t say it out loud of course but I can sense their impatience. But this girl was different. She just waited patiently, all the while smiling. She slowed down a world that moved so fast and reassured me that I could take my time.

It was a long day at work. I was tired and hungry. My parents texted me how I was doing. I said everything was fine and that I was on my way back home. They sent me a photo of their dinner. I thought about how there’s only the two of them at a dinner table meant for four. I said it looked delicious but decided not to say how I wished I was there. Maybe I should have. Maybe it would have made them happy that I was thinking of them and missing home. But it made me sad and I worried that sadness might be contagious through text. The elevator doors opened and an elderly woman stepped in with her grocery bags. She looked at me and smiled kindly. Usually, people here wouldn’t strike up a conversation in the elevator. But she asked me if I worked late. I said yes and she said, “Otsukaresamadesu.” She told me I worked hard and I felt warmth flow through my veins. Then, as I stepped out of the elevator, she wished me good night. I am thankful to her for comforting me and making me feel less alone on a lonely night.

I do not know their names and they do not know mine.

But I am thankful for these strangers who make me happy.