Every time I go around my town, there is always something that amazes me.

The bus was particularly crowded. We milled into our seats, the same old routine. A sharp crack signals that the doors are closing and we're about to leave. There's the usual crowd here--you've got the manic and loud people in the back, the grumpy old folks up front, and us in the middle. A quick look over of the bus reveals a mother and child, a couple of bums, an old grump, and some teens. Yep, that sounds about right.

We rumbled forward, not noticing anything much. Only the faint murmur of the baby breaks the otherwise solid silence. Lean forward, jolt to a stop, wait for the doors to close and for the heater to kick on. There was that strange smell that reminds me of clean bathrooms. Did it always smell like that? I wonder who decided to make it smell like a bathroom in here...

The baby garbled in glee over a piece of paper. Chomp, it went in his mouth. Giggle giggle. Whoops, to the floor it drops. The baby didn't seem to take much notice. He was distracted by his face reflected in the glass windows.

The old grump shifted a little. His cane sticks loosely in his gasp. It was an ancient cane with a glittering gold snake head on top, obviously used often.

Oh no! The baby started to cry. He noticed that his beloved paper is now on the floor, well away from his grasp. I groaned; it was going to be a long ride now. Time to pull out the trusty old mp3 player.

The mother tried to keep the baby quiet. A little bounce on the knee, a slight shushing. I thought to myself "self-comfort, dude". The old man can't help but hear the crying. Curiously, I watched as he looked as his cane, wiped the worn snake head, and grabbed the cane near the bottom. Even more curiously, I watched as he extended this cane to the child. Most curiously, I watched the child reach out and stroke the snake head, much like how the old man had just done.

The child forgot about crying. He knew nothing of it. He just kept stroking the snake. Blissful, so filled with curious joy.

And the man, what was once the old grump, smiled. Truly smiled. And I couldn't help it. I did, too.