This afternoon, on my way back from work, I ran into a young lady staring at a map of Washington DC, obviously confused. There was a look of desperation and sadness on her face.
Nothing makes me more upset than knowing someone is sad.
I offered to help her find her way around. Her eyes lit up. “I just moved to DC yesterday and I can’t seem to figure out how this city works. You’re the first person to offer to help.”
Her name was Hannah.
We ended up going for coffee. I shared my limited knowledge of the city, she shared her story of moving from Phoenix for a new job on the Hill. I told her how to get to work. She told me about how she missed her mom, her little sister, her wallpaper in her room. I told her how to find the closest grocery store. She told me about how nervous she was starting her new job, how she was scared she wouldn’t make any friends in the city.
After our short conversation over lattes, we decided to go our separate ways. She thanked me for being “the one nice guy” in the city that was willing to help.
“Thank you so much for helping me out and making me feel less alone. You have no idea how hard it is to land in a new city and not really have anyone there for you.”
I didn’t say it, but a quick response crossed my mind:
“Trust me Hannah, I understand the feeling much more than you know. Thanks for helping me feel a little less alone today too.”