Whoever said that it’s the small things in life which make it worth living clearly knew what they were talking about. I was sat at a bus stop this afternoon: to be honest I had got a bit lost and had been waiting ages for a bus back to Woolwich. It didn’t help that I was already in a pretty foul mood, but when the bus eventually came it had two prams in the wheelchair space. When the driver started to spout the usual guff about having to wait for the next bus, needless to say I lost it and began to demand they make space.

A small standoff ensued, but I was determined to stick to my guns: I knew my rights, and wanted to get home. Just when I was getting quite furious though, something reassuring happened. The mums in charge of the prams told the driver to put the ramp out, saying they would move their babies. Upon hearing that, of course my anger turned instantly into gratitude. I was able to get on the bus, and we were soon on our way.

In the end it wasn’t a problem, but the fact is I could easily have been left sitting at that bus stop. Sometimes I know I need to stand up for myself, albeit metaphorically. A wheelchair space is a wheelchair space, not a pram space; and I had fully expected, with the driver on their side, for those mothers to stubbornly refuse to make way, as has happened before. At the same time, the kindness of those women filled me with gratitude, enough to make the world suddenly seem a lot brighter. Small though they may be, such fleeting acts of kindness and understanding can often have the most profound effects.