How could I not be grateful?

And how could I not be grateful 

for the things missed, received, and sent away? 

For everything that went my way or didn’t, made me see the best in God’s way. 

But I do not want to reminisce on the things missed or sent away 

mainly because it will all make sense 

one day

So for the things received 

It’s the little moments for me, 

like the woman in line who happily tells me that she’s proud of me, even though she only got to know me through a three-minute speech 

Or the man on the train who helped me find my way, even though we were both in an unfamiliar place 

Or the child whose eyes lit up just by seeing me being me, thinking the absolute best in everyone and everything

I think about them a lot,

more than I should

people I may or may not see again. 

But whose humanness

has captured the soul

of what it means to be alive

and part of this great thing we call life.