Last month, I took bus number 4 to a cute little coffee shop called Fresh Pot. It was a funny ride because the bus was dead quiet, even though it was filled with people. Everyone seemed to be in their own little world; some people stared out the windows and others looked down at their cellphones.
At the first stop, a young mother got on the bus with her two small kids. Her little girl was dressed in bright pink pants and a puffy purple coat. She climbed up onto the seat next to me and smiled.
The quiet was immediately disrupted; the little girl in pink and purple squealed as the bus pulled away from the stop; she pointed out the window at the birds, people, and began telling me about her day. She also kept touching my bright green, merino wool, scarf and said, “Ohhh, soft.”
Her mom shook her head and said, “Keep your hands to yourself.”
I smiled and replied, “It’s okay. She’s no trouble.”
I suspect the little girl was two or three years old. She seemed to approach everything with a sense of joy and wonder. And she infused the bus riders with that feeling too. Soon people started talking to each other and laughing at the little girl’s antics.
After I got off the bus I jotted down a few questions in my journal, including: Why are adults so serious? And why is it so hard to notice the little things in life? Maybe if more people noticed the little things, folks would be happier and a little more joyful?