That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the man at the cemetery, about the weight of loss he carried so quietly, so profoundly. It made me realize how many people move through life carrying invisible burdens—grief, fear, loneliness—that we may never see.
Sometimes, all it takes is a small act of presence: a hug, a kind word, or simply sitting with someone in their pain. Connection, even brief, can be a lifeline. It reminded me that compassion doesn’t need a plan or an agenda—it just needs a willing heart.
When I woke the next morning, I made a promise to myself: to notice, to reach out, and to never underestimate the power of being there for another person. Because life is fleeting, and our small gestures of care might just be the light someone needs in their darkest hour.
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