The closest brown line stop is about 6 blocks away. I take the el several times a week to go downtown for concerts, or for work. Sometimes I walk to the station. Sometimes, I confess, when I am short on time, I drive to a place about ½ block away and park.

Yesterday, at around 5:30, I drove to my stash parking spot as I was hurrying to meet a friend for a 6:30 concert. I was carrying a folding chair and a small tote bag with my water bottle and a bag of corn chips when I made it to the turnstile, transit card in hand.

NO ENTRY.

The read-out was clear. What’s the problem, I wondered. Rattle. Rattle. Rattle. I heard an el train passing overhead. I hoped it was going northbound, and I still had the chance to catch the next train to the Loop.

My transit card needed to be charged up, I realized, so, wrestling with my concert accessories I managed this transaction at the kiosk as quickly as I could then executed a fast swipe against the card reader at the turnstile and pushed myself up the stairs. And there are lots of stairs! I started to hear the familiar rattle of an approaching train as I went up, but I couldn’t see the platform.

Oh please, please, please, I mumbled to myself, let me get on this train.

I felt my stepped-up pulse in my throat. I was grabbing the banister to help me pull myself up the last few steps. By this time, I could definitely tell the approaching train was on my side of the platform.

I emerged from the stairwell just in time to see the train slowing down, stopping just a few feet ahead of me. I started running. Not one of my stronger suits. I reached the last car just as the doors closed and the train started to pull away.

Still tussling with my folding chair and tote bag, breathing heavily, I watched, resigned, as the train started down the track, already anticipating how discouraging the view of its rear window would look as it started to pick up speed.

It moved about 30 feet down the track, then stopped. The doors opened.

Could this be for me? I thought. I managed to get a little energy moving and scampered a few more steps until I reached the last door on the last car. I walked in and the doors closed behind me.

I felt like I had just won the lottery. I must have had the biggest, most irrepressible, Cheshire Cat grin on my face. These trains just don’t stop once they shut their doors.

Everyone on the car smiled back. I was positively gleeful, and I must have just beamed with gratitude and surprise.

A smile is the simplest celebration. A bigger blessing was seeing how my good feelings changed the mood of everyone around me.

Inviting a train car full of strangers to smile is no small thing.