While these are all letters about strangers, there is at least some truth in every single entry.
By HENRY KOFMAN
Dear Reader,
Wherever I go, I have my dark blue backpack. It might not look like much, but my backpack is where I keep one of my most prized possessions. Inside one of the slightly hidden back pockets is a small notebook. The cover has a tiny blemish, and the edges have seen better days. The whole thing is about the size of one of my hands, and it has an elastic band that keeps it shut. It’s not very glamorous to look at, but like almost every other notebook, it is what is inside that is important.
My great aunt gave me this notebook as a present for my 19th birthday. On the front, she had my name embroidered in dark blue letters: “HENRY.”
Today, when you pull back the elastic strap and flip the cover open, you will find the remains of 10 torn-out pages. Those pages — which existed from a previous life of this notebook for so long, now lay hidden in a desk drawer — folded and sealed in an envelope. Behind those pages, you will see a page that reads, “Letters to Strangers.”
I started my collection by accident while I was abroad in London, and still continue them to this day. Whenever I feel like it, I take out my notebook, look for a stranger and write them a letter. I never speak to them. I never give them the letter. I just write it. I make assumptions about these people that I am almost sure are false, but I make them nonetheless. I fill out a simple page, sign it, then close the book until next time.
I never expected anyone to read these entries, but looking back at my notebook and all the lives inside of it, I now want to share these, so other people can see the magic of strangers that I have come to see. These letters are simultaneously true stories and my made-up falsehoods. They help me shift how I see others and how I see myself.
To let you in on a little secret, while these are all letters about strangers, my own mind always seems to find a way to creep in, and there is at least some truth in every single entry. Where to draw that line between fiction and reality, though, I will let you figure out.
Sincerely,
📍The National Gallery, London – Nov. 22, 2023
To the old man with the cap, glasses and sideburns,
You sit diagonally behind me. I don’t know what you are doing but it seems like you are drawing in a notebook. Probably drawing the painting in front of you. I got just a glimpse, small little sketches. You seem content in life. Sitting in the National Gallery alone, sketching art. You were an author before, wrote some very interesting stuff. I hope you enjoyed life and keep enjoying it.
Artistically,
📍Leicester Square, London – Nov 22, 2023
Dear woman who just dropped her McDonald’s,
Ugh, I get it. It happens. Life is oh so rude sometimes. But you seem to just be moving on; that’s all we can do. You had a long day but aren’t letting that get you down. It’s just McDonald’s but it may mean so much more. Enjoy your night stress-free, I hope.
Understandingly,
📍London Overground – Nov. 23, 2023
Dear mom of the loud children,
You seem tired. Kids are a lot. You try to juggle all of them, and you do your best. I think it’s hard to remember we were all children like that at some point. I don’t remember it, but I’m sure I was just as loud. But now we grow up and learn and are grateful for the times our moms tried their hardest even if we didn’t listen. They will grow up, get quieter and write letters to strangers on trains.
Sympathetically,
📍Northern line – Nov. 25, 2023
Dear man watching his phone with AirPods in,
You keep looking up and looking around. Could it be that what you are watching is boring, or do you have something on your mind? Maybe a mix of both. You are watching the phone but move to watching the people on the train and I am watching you. How full circle. You and I are alike I think. Both looking, both watching.
Observantly,
📍Jubilee line – Nov. 30, 2023
Dear incredibly cute dog sitting across from me,
A dog in its own chair on the Tube. You are just riding along, here for the ride. Your scrunched face looks around, just watching the train. You rest your head on the stranger next to your leg. He smiles. Just living your best life as a dog on the Tube. I aspire for your contentedness, your calmness as the train rattles. Your owner has you as her lock screen. You are simply a dog on the tube and never stop.
Calmly,
📍Rock & Reilly’s – USC – Jan. 15, 2024
Dear man in the striped shirt,
Eating in a restaurant alone. In my opinion, an underrated activity. I hope you are doing well, though, because it can be rough. On your phone eating by yourself. Loneliness is one of the worst feelings, especially when surrounded by people. It gets better, so they say. You’ve got this, you aren’t alone in being alone. Alone together, what irony. You got this, you will find your people soon, I know you will.
Lonely,
📍Academy Museum of Motion Pictures – Jan. 21, 2024
Dear two kids amazed by cinema,
Your wonder and joy delights me. To be that in awe with the moving images on a screen is a real treat and you have such a beautiful wonder in your eyes. You remind me what makes cinema so great and why it’s important to create art. Keep your wonder, keep being amazed, live cinematically.
Cinematically,
📍Tutor Campus Center @ USC – Jan. 25, 2024
Dear three friends laughing by the fountain,
I am very happy for you. You seem to be enjoying each other’s company. Friendship can be magical, and when you find that laughter it’s amazing. You have known each other a while now. You feel as though you can trust each other with anything. The world waits for your adventures and the drama that stops them always fades away. Cherish the friendship, cherish the laughter, cherish each other.
Friendlily,
📍USC Village – April 13, 2024
To the “yellow jacket” sitting on his phone at 2 a.m.,
A late Friday night. Lots of drunk college kids walking by, I’m sure. A father, your kids are asleep at home. I am sure they are great kids. You must really care for them. After all, you took this job at 2 a.m. A slow night, so you do what you can to fill the time, but in the end your phone is only interesting for so long. You long to be doing something, adventuring even at 2 a.m. Seems your shift is done now. Good luck on your adventures.
Adventurously,
📍USC Village CAVA – Sept. 6, 2024
Dear guy with round glasses and a button-down,
You seem to be having a lovely conversation with her, I am so happy to see you both smiling so much. I am not sure what you are explaining, but it has the both of you really interested. Having connections like that are so special and when there is someone that magical in your life, take a chance to appreciate it. A good conversation is rare. You just stay talking when you can.
Conversationally,