I almost missed it. It was just a smudge of pink caught in the wiper blade when I got back to the car. A leaf-shaped piece of pink paper, the kind that peels off a sticker sheet, scribbled over in blue crayon by a hand still learning its letters.
I love my life, written on it.
I smiled. It made my day.
The heart was pressed so hard the crayon had gone waxy and shiny in the middle, like whoever drew it wanted to make sure it would stay. The letters wandered a little. The ‘y’ leaned like it was in a hurry, the ‘f’ curled at the bottom like it wasn’t quite sure how to stop.
I have no idea who left it. Perhaps some kid, walking home from school, hands full of nothing better to do than press love onto a stranger’s windshield. They didn’t know whose car it was. They didn’t need to. They just had something good in them that day and decided the world should have a little of it too.
I’ve picked up plenty of things off the street over the years – a few coins, once a twenty-dollar bill that I felt guilty keeping, so gave it to someone in need. But nothing that cost less and was worth more than this. A kid, somewhere out there, loves their life. And now, a little bit, so do I.
I peeled it off carefully and saved it. It’s still there somewhere in my box of old things.
It's never too late 