On August 16, the day we returned from my son’s place, I went swimming at the YMCA. In the lane next to mine was a family of four. I heard the parents speaking Chinese to their two pre-adolescent children, though the children spoke English to each other. Typical ABC.
The siblings were competing in the water, the girl pushing hard not to be outpaced by her brother. I rested by the poolside, watching them, hoping for a chance to strike up a conversation—something I often do just to brighten an otherwise solitary swim. But the father always stood with his back toward me, and the mother looked as if she preferred not to be disturbed.
Finally, when the parents drifted to the far side of the 25-yard pool, I looked at the children and told them they swam very well. The boy, 13, felt encouraged and introduced his younger sister. When the family left, he turned back, smiling, and waved goodbye to me.
It’s striking how much warmth lingers from a fleeting unthinking moment. A child’s smile, a spontaneous wave, can outlast entire conversations. Encounters like these tells me that joy can come from the courage to open a small door to connection.