The Beautiful Gift I Received At A Red Light
I'm at a red light in Virginia Beach. I just arrived with my family yesterday, after two days of driving.
It's the first time I've ever moved long distance, and this southern city is definitely different from the 'burbs in Connecticut, where we've been living for the past 15 years. Or New York, where I'm originally from.
Was this the right decision?
How will my 3-year-old handle the transition?
Will I ever feel the same sense of belonging I felt in my small town in Connecticut?
At that moment, I notice something in the corner of my eye.
I look left, and there's a big yellow school bus, stopped in the lane next to me. The driver is making the universal "roll down your window" gesture.
My heart starts beating harder. Did I do something wrong? Is something broken on my car?
I roll down the window.
"You're from Connecticut!"
He's smiling with his whole face, a sun-wrinkled man in his 50s.
"Yes, I am!" I yell over the street noise.
"I always thought Connecticut has the most beautiful license plates in America! They're so pretty. I used to see them all the time — I'm from the Bronx!
A New Yorker!
"My whole family is from New York," I tell him. "But we've been living in Connecticut for a while. Just moved here yesterday."
"Oh, well, welcome! You're going to love it here."
The light turns green. We wave, he turns left, and I roll up my window as I drive on straight.
His smile is now on my face, and that's the moment I knew we were going to make it here in Virginia Beach.
We all want to feel like we belong.
As Nicholas Epley once said,
"Hardly anybody waves. But everyone waves back."
It doesn't take much.
If a friendly greeting from a stranger and a 60-second conversation at a red light made me feel right at home in a totally new environment, it really shouldn't be so hard to create cultures of connection at work, at school, and in our communities.
