The subway train stopped short of its final destination.
Over the intercom, the Conductor apologized, promising we'd be moving along as soon as the congestion cleared up.
A passenger wearing a baseball style hat and a cartoon themed backpack, glanced down at the little girl sitting on his lap. She looked to be about 3 or 4, was fast asleep, and with her right thumb firmly housed in her mouth, created a picture of bliss filled contentment. I thought it safe to assume that she was the owner of the aforementioned cartoon themed backpack.
Gently, he shifted her position, hugging her closer to his chest. Then resting his chin over the top of her head, closed his eyes, appearing to make the best of the unexpected delay.
His eyes were still closed when the train resumed its course, but popped open, as if instinctively, a few seconds before the train pulled into the station. Standing up, he transferred the girl so that she was now cradled against his right shoulder, and then fell into step with the rest of the crowd exiting the train.
In the wake of the sudden movement, the little girl, now staring out of half opened, sleep filled eyes, looked down at me. I smiled at her and earned a frown in return. Surprised, I laughed out loud and then thought it wise to feign interest in something else. Glancing back seconds later, I saw she had returned to the land of dreams.
Exiting the station, I found myself wondering if I had been her age, in her position, and on the receiving end of a random stranger's smile, what my response would have been? But then it occurred to me that it didn't really matter. After all, whatever the nature of my response, it would still have been as honest and valid as that little girl's.