In 2013, on the Upper East Side of New York City, I saw a beautiful frail woman talking to her miniature poodle like the dog was her closest confidante. They were both dressed in pink. The interaction made me smile. So I sat down on a bench outside a café called Gotham, and, very fortunately, this woman whose name was Carol Ann, sat down next me. I don’t remember how we started talking, but our conversation lasted two hours. We exchanged emails and kept in touch with long letters that covered our lives of the past and present and hopes for the future. We’d also catch up over coffee at Gotham Café whenever my travels landed me in New York City.

In May 2018, a few days before I was scheduled to be in Manhattan for a one day stopover before heading to London, Carol Ann’s husband called and said Carol Ann was on life support in the hospital. “I just wanted to let you know, in case you could come and say goodbye,” he said. “You meant a lot to her.” My one day layover in New York was the same day that Carol Ann was taken off of life support. I was able to say goodbye to my sweet friend. Today, Carol Ann is on my mind, I just wanted you to know about her and the good things that can happen when we’re kind to strangers on a bench.