befriending strangers as a form of resistance

what an impromptu dinner with a stranger taught me about humanity

It’s a Friday night in the city that always manages to make me feel isolated, despite being surrounded by millions of people. Together with my 4 year old daughter, I’m sitting in a sushi restaurant in a hip district, carefully selecting the cheapest wine on the menu, when I see a small girl entering the space with her father. I figure she’s about the same age as my daughter, so naturally my daughter skips over to befriend her. In that moment, I’m reminded of one of my favorite parts of raising a human all by myself: by being with her 24/7, I get a constant, subtle reminder of who we are innately before the world hands us its stupid rules.

Five minutes into toddler talk and the waiter serving my wine, I find myself moving our bags to join the table of the little girl and her dad. The two girls giggle, stuffing their mouths with sushi using tiny panda chopsticks, while her dad and I slip into easy adult conversation. I can’t help but notice how everyone in the restaurant is watching the sweetness — and the little absurdity — of the moment, as if their favorite show were playing out in real life. You don’t often get to witness strangers befriending each other, but when you do, it lingers. It restores a hope in humanity you may have forgotten, and I believe that forgetting our inherent connectedness is one of the greatest tragedies of human existence.