Score One For Optimism

I am on an eastbound train in London 
headed to a cafe that came recommended 
for some midday reading 

Across from me, a family traveling
like I am, but different—children and a 
crash of accoutrement in tow: 
two enormous hard-shell suitcases and 
a knee-high, robin’s-egg third that 
doubles as an electric scooter the 
youngest can ride through smooth 
airport terminals, down city sidewalks 
with some oversight 

Their stop comes before mine and
the corner they occupied is now empty 
except for a portable car seat, 
unknowingly orphaned

An older man notices first, 
takes the seat in one hand,
struggles to the still-open doors
where he pokes his head out 
like an eel in the reef

His hello and heya go unanswered,
the family already too far into the station, 
so the seat goes back where he found it

And then a boy no older than nineteen 
collects it in a bear hug and 
races through the doors 
just before they close, 
gets off his train to hurry down 
a platform he had not planned to visit, 
chasing a family he does not know

Imagine their relief when this stranger 
tapped their shoulders, 
returned to them what they didn’t even 
realize they’d lost. The avoided trip to 
whatever Target equivalent exists in London
for a replacement

Maybe it really is that simple,
that we’re happiest late to the party 
because we stopped on the way to help