Bus Infection

Sometimes I forget how a positive attitude, or a moment of kindness, can be infectious. It’s especially powerful when it happens on a city bus, where all too often I find we’re simply unaware of each other completely.

Today I didn’t have a seat. This is not unusual. Yet, as I stood there, in the middle of the aisle, one hand raised and clasped to the bar above me, about three people offered me their seats. I refused all of them, just in case an older person boarded at the next stop. Or a pregnant woman. Or a kid. Kids are surprisingly unstable on moving buses. In any case, I remained standing.

Two stops later, an older woman sitting near me stood up, looked directly at me, and gestured toward her seat. This woman had to be at least 70. She was cute, dressed up as if she was heading to church on a Sunday.

I was thinking, ok, there is no way I am taking this woman’s seat. I started to give her my, “Oh, no thanks, please, you sit,” hand motion, when our eyes met. In that brief moment, I felt like it was really important to her that I accept her offer. Even though I was perfectly fine standing, I decided to take the seat. As I made my way through the aisle, she headed toward the door. I sat and the bus stopped. She took one step down, turned around, and we exchanged a smile.

What I hadn’t realized at first was that she was departing at that next stop. She knew she wouldn’t need the seat too much longer, and, for some reason, she really wanted me to have it. She had singled me out.

That brief moment really touched me. I felt undeserving. Yet I noticed how my mood changed. The day, at least so far, seems better. I also noticed how I seem to be holding more doors, stalling more elevators and engaging in more friendly conversation. Infectious.