Care. It's free.

Here are two little stories worth mentioning, even if it isn't Monday yet.

Recently, Larry and I went to Symphony Hall in Boston to see a nearly sold out performance of Rachmaninoff's 3rd Piano Concerto. We arrived close to the start of the concert and a hurried crowd formed behind us at the stairs to the entrance. Ahead of us, an elderly man, probably late eighties, struggled  with the help of a cane to navigate the climb. A young man ahead of him, probably late twenties, opened the door - and held it open - for the couple of moments it took the older man to reach the top of the stairs. He could have suggested that in the future, the ramp might be easier. But he didn't.

"Take your time," he said quietly. 

The older man nodded his appreciation.

"Have a lovely evening,"  the younger man said, and then followed him in.  

Inside, a clutch of women sat around a small table having the last of their champagne before the start of the concert. Like most of us, they were looking forward to the "Rach 3" but unlike most of us, they were just-out-of-college age.  While one of them entertained the group with pictures from her phone, another spied us and said,  "Excuse me, could one of you take a picture of all of us?" I pointed to my husband and said, "You want him." Larry aimed the phone, took the picture, and showed it to them. They looked at it with polite approval.  

"Thank you so much," they said.

"Wait," Larry said, "let me take a couple more, one of you didn't look ready."  

They were delighted.

It always gives me pause. 

How little it takes,  how nothing it costs.

To bring a moment of real happiness into the life of another.

When you just care a little bit.