Riding the Metro with Bono in my ears, I note a woman a few rows ahead. Her face, all the struggle of one just trying to hold back the admission of devastation, looks across the aisle, over the quietly sleeping baby in the stroller at her feet. Her inner-monologue sounds like the sorrowful piano keys that fill my ears, and somehow we’re one. I’m obsessed with her burden, and am therefore momentarily relieved of my own. The train stops, one exit before my own, and she rises to exit. What could be desperation is instead a call to arms. I won’t be able to show her kindness, and so I must be caring to that which unified us instead. Her humanity exists in every other that I’ll meet today. It exists in me as well. To help them, to help me, is a tribute to her. Be kind world. We’re all in this together. 

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