Whenever I go walking, I catch glimpses of humanity.

A young girl who can’t be more than seven years old, walking to school. I say a prayer for her safety; that she may not discover the big bad world while they’re young.

An old man prayer-walking with a rosary in his hands. He combines penance with exercise, making efficient use of his time.

A young teenager helping his mother to fry local bean cakes before he leaves for school. He wears black socks with brown open toe sandals and for a moment I think, “Bad fashion starts early due to poverty.”

A mother backing out of her driveway in a monster-sized jeep on her way to drop her kids off at school. She’s frowning. Maybe she’s running late because a kid refused to eat.

Four guards from nearby homes sitting under a tree watching the backsides of women who jog past. Entertainment comes cheap and easy to them.

Executives jogging past each other and never saying hi. They seem lost in the music blaring from their headphones. The melodies wrap them in cocoons of private loneliness.

An overweight man walking with determination having been warned by his doctor that he must lose weight before he has a heart attack.

Builders shoveling sand who get paid per day. A job-related accident might mean they can no longer support their families.

Commuters hurrying past to catch the bus and beat traffic. They try not to think of the amount of life they are wasting sitting in traffic.

Everyone I pass by has a story; a burden they’re carrying or a triumph they’re celebrating.

I remember this anytime I ask a friend how they’re doing and they say, “Fine.” I push a little to ask, “Are you sure?” If they say they’re okay but I’m not convinced, I take a few moments to pray for them.

Everyone has a story. May yours end well.