I woke up to a dreary Tuesday. Gray clouds gathered overhead, the weather was wet and miserable and my alarm went off way too early. I dragged my feet while getting ready for work, putting off leaving until the last possible second.
The drive to work was the same as usual, passing the same yellow Mustang and blue mini van that I always do, seeing the same houses with dim lights in the windows and people just starting to stir inside and the same black cows munching on damp grass. Even this morning’s soundtrack (Sherlock Holmes by Hans Zimmer) was a bit melancholy.
Then, as I turned onto the final stretch of road I saw a little boy bundled up in his yellow and gray jacket, book bag strapped to his back standing on a big rock at the end of his driveway. As I could see, he was waiting for the bus. He was waving madly at all the cars passing by. So when I got up to him, I threw him a little wave. His response was immediate. A huge smile split his face and he waved even more vigorously at me. I couldn’t help it. My face split into a wide smile too.
Just like that, my morning seemed a little brighter. The sky is still overcast, the day is still wet and I still have to go to work, but I feel a a little better about it, all because of that little boy’s smile. Cheesy, but true. I guess it really is the little things that matter.