It could have been a regular day on the road to Utopia for me.  Nothing other than angst awaited me in the office.  I had a fitful night’s sleep.  More gray in my hair than yesterday. It was the crack of ten a.m. and I was just leaving for the office.

Funny what a difference a little thing can make.

I was stopped at a crosswalk on my way to the train station, bracing myself for the hot-like-Africa-hot subterranean urban jungle that is our transit system.  A little girl with haphazard braids danced along in that way that little girls do and held her grandmother’s hand (I think she is the grandmother).  They stopped on the other side of the crosswalk for the light and the grandmother bent over to the little girl and may have said something or kissed her head, I couldn’t tell.  Anyway the light changed and, as I passed them, the little girl was telling her grandmother a story in that sing-song way the little kids do and the grandmother  had a big smile on her face.  Made me happy all day.