Vachon Imagined

There’s a man in my neighborhood whom I often pass when I’m out walking my dog. He usually greets me with a big smile, always followed by a boisterous, easily felt, “How’s it going?” and a thumbs up.

It’s a quick sensation of: Hey, I see you.

Those people who smile at us for no particular reason, who brighten our day without even trying, are gifts. And yet it can be surprisingly hard to be one of those people when your mind is full of thinking. You’re replaying a comment from yesterday or worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet. You’re living in the past or the future, and suddenly the person you pass isn’t really there at all. Or worse, they inherit whatever mood you’ve been carrying around in your head.

I don’t know this man well. In fact, beyond a few greetings and a handful of thumbs up, I know very little about him.

But what I do know is this: every time I see him, he brings a little bounce to my step and a little cheer to my body. For a brief moment, the world feels friendlier.

The feeling doesn’t last, of course. Most feelings don’t. By the time I get home, it may be gone entirely. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t important.

Sometimes it is precisely these small, passing moments that move us. They inspire us to make the phone call we’ve been avoiding, start the project we’ve been putting off, or simply approach the rest of our day with a little more openness than we had before.

A smile. A greeting. A thumbs up.

Tiny things, really.

And yet, how often does a life change because someone offered a moment of encouragement at exactly the right time?

So I’m grateful.

For every thumbs up.

For every hearty “How’s it going?”

And for every reminder that the smallest gestures can have the longest reach.