🙏🏼 Good Morning 🌄

🙏🏼 Good Morning 🌄 I’m 75 now. These days, mornings are quiet—just me, a cup of tea, and the park down the road. I sit on the same wooden bench every day, watching joggers rush by, parents push strollers, kids chasing pigeons. Life keeps moving, even when you feel like you’ve slowed down. One morning, I noticed a boy—maybe 16—sitting alone at the far end of the bench. Shoulders slumped, hoodie pulled tight, staring at the ground like the world had forgotten him. I know that look. I wore it once, years ago, when life felt too heavy. I didn’t want to scare him off, so I asked softly, “What’s one good thing about today?” He blinked, surprised. “What?” “Anything at all,” I said. “The sky, a song you heard, something small that made today not all bad.” He thought for a moment. Then, quietly: “My sister saved me the last cookie this morning. Said she wanted me to have it.” A tiny smile tugged at his face. Not much, but enough to crack the gray around him. “That’s a good thing,” I said, nodding. He left soon after, but when he glanced back, his eyes weren’t as heavy. The next day, he sat closer. And when a woman with grocery bags shuffled past us, he piped up: “Ma’am, what’s one good thing about your day?” She laughed, surprised. “Well, I found strawberries on sale.” The boy grinned. It became a thing. People passing by began stopping for a minute on my bench. A man said, “The bus was on time!” A young girl said, “I made a new friend at school.” A grandmother said, “My knees didn’t ache this morning.” Simple, ordinary things—but the kind that remind you life still has sweetness tucked in its corners. Soon, folks started calling it The Bench Question. Strangers came not just to rest their feet, but to share their “one good thing.” Someone brought a notebook, leaving it on the bench so people could write their answers. Within weeks, the pages were filled: 💌 “My daughter called after months.” 💌 “The sunset looked like cotton candy.” 💌 “I’m learning to smile again.” And here’s the truth I learned: happiness doesn’t come from fixing everything. Sometimes it’s just about noticing the smallest good thing in the middle of an ordinary day. The boy still visits. He doesn’t hunch anymore. He sits tall, asks every passerby the question. Sometimes, he even brings cookies to share. Life isn’t always easy. But maybe the secret isn’t chasing big joys—it’s learning to hold on to the little ones. One bench. One question. One good thing at a time. So, let me ask you now: What’s one good thing about your day?