The Girl on the Train

I was traveling home after a difficult day.

The train was almost empty.

A little girl sat across from me.

She couldn't have been older than seven.

After a few minutes, she asked:

"Are you sad?"

I smiled.

"A little."

She thought about it.

Then she handed me a small drawing.

It showed two people holding hands beneath a yellow sun.

"That's for you."

I thanked her.

Then she asked:

"Do you think people stop being sad when they grow up?"

I laughed.

"No."

She looked disappointed.

"Then what happens?"

I thought for a moment.

"I think we get better at carrying it."

She nodded as if that made perfect sense.

Her mother called her.

They got off at the next station.

I kept the drawing.

Years passed.

I eventually forgot the girl's face.

But I never forgot the drawing.

One day, during a difficult period in my life, I found it again.

On the back, in a child's handwriting, were five words:

"Tomorrow can still be better."

I don't know whether she wrote them.

Maybe her mother did.

Maybe someone else.

But I kept that drawing.

And every time life becomes difficult, I look at it.

Because sometimes the smallest people can leave the biggest lessons.