This morning I got on yet another train, found an empty seat, and sat down.
Shortly after, the conductor came by to check tickets.
The young man sitting to my left didn’t have one. He said he got on at the last minute, was on his way to work, and didn’t have time to buy it. He didn’t have any cash, only a debit card. He tried to pay with that, but it didn’t work. The conductor was understanding, but he had to issue a fine. 50 euros, which the young man could pay within a week. He looked devastated, but he had no choice, and while the conductor started writing the fine, I thought about how that amount was probably at least a full day’s work for him (if not more).
I asked, “Excuse me, how much is the ticket?”
“15 euros. Round trip.”
“Okay, I’ll pay for it.”
The young man looked at me and said, “Thank you.”
I replied, “You’re welcome.”
“Practice random kindness,” someone once said.
I couldn’t care less about telling you what I did. That’s not the point. The point is that 15 euros won’t change my life—they don’t change anything. Not because 15 euros is a small amount, but because I know its value well, and that value will never change for me. But right now, those 15 euros mean a lot more to that young man than they do to me. And I don’t care what job he has, what his life is like, or what his story is. I don’t need to know him to help him. I just felt it was the right thing to do, and so I did it.
Maybe in the same way, tomorrow he’ll help a stranger. And maybe, someday, a stranger will help me if I ever need it.
Because in the end, life is a bit like a train ride.
Round trip.
Credit – Matteo Gracis~