She touched me like you’d expect an angel would. She was a small yet mighty angel. While stopped at a red light, my mind pinged, frantically thinking about my mother, who had been hospitalized and was now in a skilled nursing facility. My thoughts were like any concerned son or daughter thinking about a mother’s mental health, physical health, and the practical matters facing us as she had been living independently. I realized that this would no longer be possible.

She is now easily confused, a new concern since seeing her three months earlier. She has also grown weak and frail. They tell us she fell but doesn’t recall falling or pushing the button on her emergency assist device. Do I empty her home of her belongings or wait for a woman with failing software to make this decision? Do I bring her to our house or leave her in the city she never wants to be away from?

So many worries, and then this angel appeared. She was six or seven years old, with one hand on a stroller pushed by a woman. She wore pink shorts, a flowered top, and white canvas shoes. Not exactly angle-type clothing. I sat at this random stoplight, waiting as this tiny girl crossed before me. She smiled and waved directly at me with a glorious smile. Without knowing it, she had sent her joy directly to me like a gift from heaven. She felt exactly as I’d expect an angel to feel―warm, hopeful, beautiful.

What was the lesson learned from this precious moment? Smile and wave, for you never know who you may be helping.