Late night, strange neighborhood, dejected mood. Scared and cold, not sure how I'm going to make it home. Waiting at the bus stop alone, not even sure if one will still come. It does. I step up to the bright, warm, open door and begin fishing change out of my pocket. I look up to see a young girl disembarking by herself. We make eye contact. Her hand stretches out holding a transfer slip, "You want it?"; "Sure... thank you..." I mumble. Sitting on the bus, crying to myself in the corner. Those few simple, innocent words and a small, selfless offering were a more significant human connection than I had felt in days. I still have the crumpled transfer slip in my pocket...