The commuter train pulled to a stop. A voice blared over the intercom, “Salt Lake Central”. The doors retracted and people scurried to get off. New boarders waited semi-patiently as the passengers disembarked. One who was waiting was a young girl carrying a backpack that bulged with its contents. An electronic beep sounded indicating that the doors were about to close. Just then, a young mother approached the door pushing a stroller with a small baby. As she pushed the stroller out the door, one of the wheels sunk down in the gap between the train and the landing. The stroller was stuck, and the young mother, who was carrying two or three bags, tried to shift the weight, and reach down to dislodge the stroller wheel. Before she could even bend over, the girl with the back pack quickly reached down right in front of me and lifted the stroller out of the gap. Then without waiting for acknowledgement, she backed away, clearing a path for the stroller.
A simple act, I thought, but then upon reflection I considered what might have happened if the baby had fallen from the stroller, or the wheel had become caught more firmly without the girl’s quick action. She acted instinctively. I would have helped, I thought, but not as quickly as she did. The act was second nature to her. In this tiny act of service, the young girl demonstrated her life style. It was as though this was just a normal part of her day, and that her whole purpose was to perform such small acts of service. Did she save a life today? No one really knows. But she definitely improved the quality of life for just a moment, for a young mother and also for impatient passengers on a commuter train.
