Everyone Backed Away From the Biker on the Subway, Until One Moment Changed Everything!

As we eventually dispersed, walking back toward the station or into the streets of Brooklyn, I realized that the morning had changed more than just the biker’s journey. A carload of people had boarded that train with their defenses up, conditioned to fear what they didn’t understand and to turn away from the messiness of grief. But because one person chose to sit down instead of move away, they had all remembered how to be human.

We learned that compassion doesn’t always wear a gentle face, and that the most intimidating exteriors can hide the softest hearts. Fear is a powerful force, but it is fragile; it disappears the moment we choose to move closer. The biker left the beach alone that day, but he didn’t leave unsupported. He walked away with the knowledge that his grief was seen and respected, and we walked away with the reminder that we are never more alive than when we are willing to carry a small piece of someone else’s burden.