The Window in the Staircase

"Light is not rare — only attention.”

In the stairwell of an old apartment building there was a small window.

Not big.

Not fancy.

It wasn't particularly clean.

Just a simple piece of glass that let the light in in the morning.

Many of the residents didn't even notice.

They rushed to work, took the child, made phone calls, complained.

The staircase was just a passageway for them.

However, one elderly resident stopped there for a moment every morning.

Not for long.

Just until the sunlight slid along the railing

and illuminated the worn wall.

A young neighbor once asked him:

- What are you always looking at? There's nothing here.

The old man smiled.

- Of course. The sun comes in here.

The boy shrugged.

- It comes everywhere.

- No, the old man said softly. - I notice it here.

There was silence.

The boy was a little He walked down the stairs more slowly.

And indeed: the light drew something on the wall.

A golden streak.

A still moment.

Proof that the sun had risen again today.

From that day on, he stopped sometimes too.

His life did not change.

He did not become richer.

He did not have fewer worries.

But there was a place where he reminded himself every morning: the day is not all about rushing.

Years later, the old man no longer lived there.

But the window remained.

And the light came in the same way every morning.

Only now two people were standing under it.

It is not that something special happens that makes a day beautiful.

It is that you notice what was always there.