March 8th, 2019

Summary

On March 8th, 2019, the author recounts an empathetic encounter with a stranger on a metro train, highlighting the emotional contrast between passengers on Women's Day.

Abstract

The author describes a challenging commute on the evening of March 8th, 2019, when they share a moment of silent understanding with a young girl who is crying on the train. Despite the crowded conditions and the initial anonymity of the metro, the author is moved to speak to the girl, acknowledging the shared experience of sadness. The scene is juxtaposed with two other women on the train who are joyfully displaying their mimosa flowers, a symbol of Women's Day in Italy. The author reflects on the emotional divide between those who feel loved and those who are suffering, and how a simple act of kindness can make a difference. The story concludes with a hope that the pandemic's impact on society will lead to greater empathy and connection among women.

Opinions

The author believes that empathy can bridge emotional distances, as demonstrated by their interaction with the crying girl.
There is an observation that people tend to be oblivious to others' struggles when they themselves are happy.
The author values the significance of small acts of kindness, such as their decision to speak to the girl.
The author reflects on the impact of the pandemic, hoping it will encourage people to be more open and empathetic towards one another.
The author implicitly criticizes the societal norm of isolation, advocating for more meaningful connections, especially among women.

A special encounter

At 6.30 pm I finally made it to the metro station. The trains were crowded, and I couldn’t almost walk on the platform. I stepped a little in front when the first train arrived in my station, and I got on. I didn’t want to miss my connecting train home. My trip would take one hour and a half, like any other day of my working week.

After a few stations people started to leave the train, we could move a little in the coach and I spotted an empty seat. I took it and I finally sat and relaxed; I soon realized I was sitting next to a young girl. I couldn’t see her face and I didn’t’ want to look like a meddler, but she kept on blowing her nose and drying her face, so I understood she was crying.

Two other girls were sitting just opposite us; they were both holding a bunch of mimosa flowers. They were not the kind of flowers that are sold in the street, they were definitely from a florist’s shop: big bunches of an intense yellow color. I was so busy that I had almost forgotten it was Woman’s day, and in Italy we celebrate it by giving yellow flowers. The two seemed happy and proud of their gifts, they even looked elegant and made up. I noticed it because when I leave the office in the evening there is no more make up on my face, and I think my clothes are a little creased.

I thought that maybe the girl by my side was crying because she expected a little flower, and she didn’t get it. Or maybe her love affair was over. Or someone in the family was sick. I didn’t’ know what to do but I know quite well what it is when you are sad. ‘Was it a difficult day?’ I asked. ‘Yes’ she replied.

We didn’t look at each other. ‘I understand, I’ve been there too. Maybe crying will not change the way things are, but it helps, or at least it helps me.’ I added. ‘Yes’ she added. Then silence.

The train continued its journey, and there seemed to be two different groups of women in that coach: the two queens on one side, who were not even considering us; and us, since I somehow felt similar to the girl by my side. I know how it is: when you are happy and you feel loved, you seem not to notice the others, who on the contrary observe you and are confirmed in their suffering by your happiness.

At the next stop the girl by my side stood up, she looked at me and said, ‘Thank you’ and smiled at me. I was so surprised that I didn’t smile back, and I still hate myself for that. I only replied ‘bye — bye’. She left the train.

Things have changed a lot in these two years because of the pandemic. I don’t even catch the metro anymore and I walk to the office. Obviously, I never met that girl again. Yet, even if now we are more isolated, I wish this strange time of our lives helped us become more open, and I hope women will make a little step to help and look at each other with empathy, because it really makes the difference in a day.