There's a homeless man named David that often sits outside on the streets near where I live. I'll typically bump into him on weekdays during the late mornings or early afternoons on my way to Baldwin Street. He's always perched up on the same milk crate that he brings with him as well as a finely aged flower pot that he uses to collect change and donations.

He's always smiling. He greets every single person that walks by and makes eye contact with them. He says things like:

• "Hope you're having a great day",

• "it's a lovely day today",

• "hope you're doing well",

• "keep smiling",

• "God bless you", and

• "thank you for everything."

I appreciate David's kindness a lot. It speaks intense volumes. In the last 5 months of me living in this area, I've never seen David without a smile. He is incredible.

David has an obvious medical condition that has restricted his employment opportunities.

Every time I see David, I make it a point to stop and chat with him for a bit. I like to ask him how he's doing, if he needs anything, what he's thinking about. A lot of the time, he tells me he's just grateful to be alive and he thanks me.

David tells me that it's nice to feel seen, heard, and not dehumanized. He says that most won't even acknowledge that he exists because of his apparent medical condition. I ask him if there's anything I can do to help. He says that just saying hello every time I pass by is more than he could ask for.

Although we've only chatted a handful of times, I think about David a lot. If you were to ask me today who are some of the kindest people I know, David would be top of mind.

David reminds me to take small moments to say something kind to one another. Make eye contact more often and make it count. Wish people well, genuinely. Root and cheer for people wholeheartedly. Really listen to the people around you. David told me today that I can do anything and I've been thinking about him ever since.