The 3 train took a while to pull up into Atlantic Avenue this afternoon.  The day was awful: pouring rain, biting cold, and when the train finally pulled in, the speaker said it’d be running express.  I shrugged at a young mother with a boy of seven by her side.  ”Just when you think you’re going to get a break,” she said, returning the shrug with a polite smile, patting her son’s back.  We began talking.  ”I have to take him to a birthday party.  I wish I could have Sundays to myself.  I’m battling cancer,” she continued.  ”Mondays I get chemo, so I just wanted to rest today.  My life is hard.  No matter what’s bad for you, at least it’s not that.  Nothing’s as bad as that.”

She smiled at me as she got off at Grand Army Plaza and wished me a happy holiday.