Brie or muesli?

The road worker opens a plastic box. On one side of the partition are sandwiches, and on the other, strawberries with their stems neatly removed. He's sitting in front of my door with two other men (they without strawberries), taking a break from work. I have to pass them to get to my bike, and as I pass, I remark that the strawberries look delicious. He laughs and says, "She takes good care of me. I'm not letting her go."

It's these little things that help me forget about the state of the world for a while. In the NRC economics department, we sometimes discuss how we rarely read good news or stories with a bit more lightheartedness in the paper. Understandably, there are simply too many wars and other disasters that deserve space. But if I can, I'd like to dedicate my last column to things that actually make me happy.

I'm happy about the plant in my living room that suddenly has fresh green leaves. A train conductor wishing passengers a day with "happy thoughts." Students asking sharp questions during a tour. A fluffy dog on a terrace in the Jordaan named "Nozem." My teenage sister who volunteers to bring a book on vacation and actually reads it. When someone falls off their bike and everyone who sees it rushes over to help. When people who aren't really "needed" stay there, looking at each other for a few minutes to see if they can move on.

I'm happy when I look into a classroom from the street where adults are listening to a teacher write things on a board. Adults are learning vocabulary again and making themselves dependent on someone who knows better than them. These are people who believe that things aren't set in stone, that you can always start something new.

People enjoying a scoop of ice cream alone. They've left the house for it, or interrupted their journey somewhere. Without knowing about my appreciation, my partner tells me that lately he sometimes cycles past an ice cream parlor after work and tries a different flavor each time. Amarena cherry is his current favorite.

People who come up with a joke and have a blast doing it. Like the friend who came up with the drinking game "Brie or Cruesli?", where people have to taste it thoroughly on a drunken night and then guess whether they're eating brie or cruesli. He carried this idea around for a week and cried with relief when he finally told his friends about it. We laughed heartily along with him.

These are things that briefly heal the broken world. They help foster trust in the kindness, creativity, and hope of people. Sometimes, I'm only a new death toll from Gaza away from an overwhelming feeling of powerlessness. Then I try to think of my grandfather, who at 92 still cracks the funniest jokes. Of my little sister, who still has a choice in everything in life. Of a friend's toddler learning to walk. Or of love in a lunchbox.

Sezen Moeliker replaces Frits Abrahams.