In the weeks that followed, I found myself noticing more — the quiet kindnesses people offer without applause, the small mercies that stitch the world together. I started paying for coffee behind me, holding doors longer, offering smiles instead of avoiding eye contact. Not because I was trying to be generous, but because that night taught me something simple and profound: compassion doesn’t just help the receiver — it heals the giver, too. And ever since that moment in a fast-food restaurant, I’ve carried a new understanding with me. We don’t need to change the world in sweeping ways. Sometimes, all it takes is one Happy Meal, one gentle gesture, one spark of humanity to make the world feel softer again.The Little Girl at McDonald’s Who Reminded Me What Kindness Really Means
