Say Hi

I was sitting on a bench today. Three benches in a row, each one with a person alone, staring into their own little worlds. None of us spoke.

Then a dog passed by. Not rushing anywhere, not caught up in thought — just wagging its tail. It looked at me, slowed down, and greeted me with joy. No hesitation, no awkwardness. Just pure presence.

And in that moment I realized why I love dogs so much. They remind us how simple connection can be.

That’s when I remembered something my father once told me. I must have been eight or nine, walking beside him. I asked, “Do you know that passerby?” He said no. Then he added, “But you should always say hi when you make eye contact.”

Back then it felt strange. Why would you greet someone you don’t know? Now, sitting between silent benches while a dog reminded me what joy looks like, I see it was one of the greatest lessons he ever gave me.

We built cities that connect billions of us, but also make us strangers to each other. We built towers that touch the sky, but forgot that eye contact on the street can touch the soul.

Maybe the smallest bridge we can rebuild is simply this: say hi when meets the eye.