ed.

So we headed out of the alley, back into the stream of people passing by. We took a left at the next intersection, moved along a sidewalk lined with crooked power poles and faded graffiti. Mateo kept looking around, noticing little things like broken bottle caps glinting on the ground or a wrinkled poster on a pole advertising some missing dog.

He stopped once to straighten the poster, smoothing out its corners.

“You like taking care of everybody, huh?” I asked, noticing the gesture.

He glanced at me, almost shy. “I just think if there’s something small I can do to help, why not?”

I couldn’t argue with that. It was such a simple idea, yet so many of us forget it.

We get caught up in our own worries, our own schedules, and ignore all these little ways we can be kind.

As we walked, it started to drizzle. Just a light rain that dotted our clothes and made the pavement shiny. Mateo didn’t seem bothered by it.

He lifted his face to the sky like he was enjoying the cool droplets. I tugged my jacket around me and kept pace with him.

Halfway down the next block, I heard someone calling a name. A woman’s voice.

“Mateo? Mateo!” She was hurrying down the sidewalk, a worried expression etched across her face. I guessed this had to be his aunt.

Sure enough, Mateo looked up and waved.

“Aunt Rosa!” he called, and ran the last few steps toward her. She bent down to grab him in a hug, her relief evident. Then, noticing me, she straightened up and gave me a questioning look.

I lifted my hands, palms out, a friendly gesture.

“I’m Colin. I saw him by the store and just wanted to make sure he got back safe.”

Her eyes flicked from me to Mateo, lingering on his damp shirt. “I told you not to wander too far,” she scolded him gently, but her voice trembled with a hint of fear that only someone who loves a kid deeply would have.

“I know,” Mateo said.

“But I was okay. I was just… doing something for Daddy.”

She flinched a little at that, her own eyes misting. Then she looked at me, nodding in understanding.

“Thank you for looking out for him.”

We stood there a moment, the rain softly pattering around us. Rosa asked if I wanted to walk with them the rest of the way home, but I politely declined, not wanting to intrude. She gave me a small, grateful smile and ushered Mateo inside a nearby building.

It was an older apartment complex with flickering hallway lights, from what I could see. The boy waved goodbye to me before disappearing through the door.

I stood there for a second, feeling like I’d just walked away from something more meaningful than I could really explain. In a world that can be chaotic, here was this little kid handing out genuine kindness without asking anything in return.

I started retracing my steps to the corner store.

The drizzle turned to a heavier rain, and I found myself half-jogging, hands in my pockets. The police cruisers were gone, but I imagined those officers telling their families about the strange little boy who prayed for them out of the blue. I could almost see them smiling, touched by a moment of pure compassion.

As I passed the spot where I’d first seen Mateo, I noticed something lying on the wet asphalt.

Stooping down, I recognized it was a small white card, the kind people sometimes scribble notes on. It was blank, except for one sentence in a child’s scrawl:

“Be the reason someone smiles today.”

I smiled at the words, realizing this must have been Mateo’s. Whether he dropped it accidentally or left it deliberately, I couldn’t say.

But it felt like his final message, the perfect reminder of how he lived his life.

I took that card home and taped it to my fridge. It’s still there now, a small testament to what can happen when we choose kindness first. This kid, who lost his dad, still believed the world was worth caring for.

He wasn’t naïve. He just believed that little gestures—like a prayer, a comforting word, or even a smile—could change someone’s day.

I think about him sometimes, especially when I catch myself getting cynical or stressed. It reminds me that we all have the power to show kindness in simple ways that might matter more than we realize.

Even a seven-year-old with worn-out sneakers understood that better than most of us.

You never know who might need that extra kindness, or how much it might mean to them. So if you see an opportunity, no matter how small or unexpected, don’t let it pass you by. You might be the one person who changes someone’s entire perspective.

In the end, maybe the biggest lesson is that goodness can come from everyday people in everyday places—like a parking lot on a drizzly afternoon.

It’s not about making a grand gesture or having a lot of resources. It’s about using what you have—your words, your presence, your compassion—to show someone else that they matter. If a little boy can do it, so can we.

And really, that’s what life should be about: looking out for one another, offering hope wherever we can, and not being afraid to reach out—even to strangers.

Mateo did it with a simple prayer, and it was enough to move hearts that day.

So if this story touched you in any way, please share it, pass it on, and like it. Let’s keep the chain of kindness going. You never know whose spirits you might lift or how far one act of compassion can travel.

And remember: Be the reason someone smiles today. You have that power. Don’t waste it.