Could it be? How could the woman next to me on the bus really be that happy? She was sunshine incarnate, her joy spilling over onto everyone around her. It was magical-no other word for it. She got off at the next intersection, leaving behind a sparkle that I took with me into my joy-sucking 9-5 in a grimy office building a few blocks down.

I didn’t see her again for several weeks, and by that time, I wasn’t sure I would recognize her. I need not have worried; Sister Sunshine, as she was becoming affectionately known, was standing at the intersection I normally got off at. I said hello, and she lit up. “Talia!”, she said, her face glowing. “I’ve been hoping to run into you again. You see, you really don’t belong here”, she said, gesturing at the office building I worked in. “Crap”, I said, looking at my phone. “I’m late”, knowing I wasn’t-Sister Sunshine had me dead to rights and I didn’t like it. I made my way up the stairs and into my cubicle. I put my headphones on, trying to put some distance between myself and the unnerving encounter with the mysteriously joyful woman who knew my name, and knew that I was stuck in a job that was killing me slowly.

All day long, I puzzled over it: was she an angel? Outlandish, I thought. Maybe she was just unusually observant, picking up clues no one else could see. Either way, I wanted to see her again, find out the answer to the joy that pervaded her entire being.

Several days later, I was sitting in a coffee shop on a quiet residential street, trying to look through help-wanted ads. Finding nothing, I wandered over to the counter to order a cappuccino. As I did, I heard the bells of a nearby church toll 3 pm. The woman two tables down from the cash register crossed herself, as if being reminded to pray by the bells. She seemed oddly familiar, but I just couldn’t place her.

This was 3 years ago. I have since moved to another job, another town, another life. But before I left, I ran into her one last time. She told me, “Always follow your joy, and the rest will follow”. She left me with one souvenir-the sunshine yellow strand of prayer beads that now hang over my mirror. Wherever you are, Sister Sunshine, you were right: I followed my joy, and the rest did follow.