Have you ever wondered who remembers you—and why? I often think about the strangers who remain vivid in my mind, sometimes for the smallest, most random moments. You never know how a single encounter might linger in someone’s life—or how you might have touched theirs.
There’s one memory I carry with me that I still wonder about, even now, nearly twenty years later. It was nighttime, and I was crying in my car—not bawling, but tears were quietly streaming down my face. I pulled up to a red light and glanced out the window. In the car next to me, a stranger looked back. His face was filled with genuine concern as he mouthed, “Are you okay?”
I nodded, assuring him I was fine, even though I wasn’t. The light turned green, and just like that, the moment ended.
What I noticed after I drove away was that I had been seen. This stranger didn’t just glance over; he noticed me. He waited for me to meet his eyes before silently asking if I was okay. Even now, as I write this, I’m thinking about him. I can’t remember what he looked like, but I’ll never forget the care in his expression.
It makes me realize how much people care—sometimes even without knowing us. When we see someone hurting, we feel it too. Empathy can be immediate and unspoken.
I’ve always believed that if I had shaken my head, if I had signaled that I wasn’t okay, this person would have followed me or stopped to help. That’s the depth of concern I felt in that fleeting moment.
For the record, I remember why I was crying that night—I had just had a fight with my boyfriend. But what stayed with me wasn’t the fight or the tears. It was the stranger’s compassion, so simple yet profound.
Sometimes, I wonder if he remembers me—the girl crying in the car at a red light. Maybe he doesn’t. But the fact that he cared enough to check on me is something I’ll always carry.
Some memories stay with us because they make us feel something. And those feelings—those moments of connection—can’t be erased.
The Wild Gems 