I'll Call This One: For Adrian.

A few weeks ago, I met a lovely elderly man at a train station.

I had gotten there early; I was heading back home from work in another city. I’d just finished a driving lesson that I didn’t think went great. I felt like I made so many mistakes and honestly, I was just feeling low. But anyway, this is for Adrian, not me. 

I was sitting at the station, about thirty minutes early for my train. Around ten minutes later, I noticed an elderly man with his carer. He came up to me and asked how to get to another nearby train station. When I confirmed that he was in the right place, he began to tell me his story. He had just left a medical appointment and was trying to get back home to a town not far from where we were. He’d taken a bus that was supposed to drop him and his carer off at the train station, but midway through the journey, the driver told everyone to get off, and said he was returning to the depot. Adrian explained his situation to the driver and was directed to the train station where we crossed paths.

I told him how sorry I was about the ordeal, and that’s when he asked for my name. I didn’t tell him Dokuboba (what a mouthful for him!); instead, I told him he could call me “Dee.” I asked his name, and he said, “Adrian.” I knew I wouldn’t forget it because of the TV show Monk, which made me smile.

I told him the next train was in 20 minutes — the same one I was waiting for. He and his carer sat just beside me. Barely two minutes passed, and Adrian turned and asked, “How many minutes left now?” I chuckled and said, “It’s only been two minutes since you asked so, 18.” That got the loveliest smile out of him. When the train came, right on time, Adrian offered to help carry my things, even though I had more than he could likely manage. I thought that was so sweet, but I told him I’d be alright.

A short while after we were seated, the ticket inspector came around. When he got to Adrian and his carer, Adrian was about to buy their tickets while explaining everything that had happened. The inspector was so kind, bless him, he reassured Adrian that from the next station, he could catch a direct train home and told him he didn’t need to buy a ticket. That was so thoughtful. 

When we got to the station, Adrian insisted I get off before him, even though I was standing behind him. What a gentleman. I told him how lovely it had been to meet him and his carer. I went the opposite way to catch my train home, but my things were so heavy I ended up sitting down to rest. My train wasn’t for another forty minutes anyway, so I wasn’t in any rush. 

From where I sat, I saw Adrian and his carer walking with a station assistant. I figured he was explaining the situation so she could assist them. As they passed me, Adrian waved and smiled. So sweet! I know I keep saying that — but honestly. 

They stopped right in front of me while the assistant checked for train times. There was one in ten minutes, but it was on a different platform, and there was no way Adrian would make it there in time. The next one she found was my train. It would stop at Adrian’s town before my stop. Perfect timing, no need to rush.

Before we left, Adrian wanted to grab a drink. He offered to buy one for me and the assistant (so sweet, again!). We both politely declined, and off he went into the shop with his carer. The station assistant then asked if I could accompany them to the platform, since she needed to assist someone else who had just arrived in a wheelchair. I told her I’d be happy to. She smiled and said, “You clearly love helping. You should consider working at the train station.” We both laughed, and she added, “Well, this is your good deed for the day.” 

But in my heart, I knew that wasn’t quite true. It wasn’t my good deed; Adrian was the one who blessed me.

At the platform, the train was already there. Adrian once again offered to help with my bags. I helped them find a seat and went off to look for one for me when they were settled. The train was pretty full, but I managed to find them a spot that was only reserved after their stop — quite lucky. I said another goodbye, and Adrian asked if I wasn’t sitting with them. I explained that the only free seat I could find was way at the back of the carriage. We smiled at each other, and I went off to sit down.

Even from my seat, I kept glancing back just to make sure they were okay. When we reached their stop, I saw them walking down the aisle toward the exit. I was surprised because there was another exit much closer to them. But as they passed, Adrian caught my eye and gave me the sweetest smile. I smiled back. We waved. And just like that, he was gone.

That single moment made my entire day.

Suddenly, my driving lesson didn’t seem so important. The mistakes, the mood, the weight of my thoughts, it all faded. I felt light again. It’s like Adrian brought perspective with him.

And that’s when I realised that the station assistant was definitely wrong.

This wasn’t my good deed for the day. It was Adrian’s.

He didn’t just pass time with me; he warmed my heart and reminded me what kindness can feel like when it’s simple and sincere.

I don’t know where Adrian is now. I don’t think we’ll meet again — not here, anyway. But I hope he’s a Christian. Because if he is, maybe we’ll bump into each other in Heaven. Or in the New Jerusalem. How cool would that be?

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” - Hebrews 13:2 (RSV)

With grace, 

Dokuboba.