With a freshly prepared Asiago Einstein Bagel in one hand and a Dragon Pearl Jasmine tea in the other, I found myself scurrying past the bookstore, breathing out small puffs of air into the merciless January morning. In my mind, I was painting Chinese characters meticulously, going through each stroke and each pronunciation, preparing mentally for the upcoming quiz in my Chinese class.

Yet the sight before me snapped me out of my thoughts.

A woman’s hunched figure entered my line of sight, her shaking shoulders and defeated demeanor both clear indications that something was very wrong. She had a napkin pressed tightly to her eyes, and an occasional gasp would escape from her mouth. At first glance, I assumed that the woman was laughing, yet, with a closer glance, I realized she was weeping. Broken, sporadic sobs, as if she was trying to keep the world from knowing about her sorrows. My mind went blank but my feet continued to carry me past the woman.

Two steps past the woman. I mentally fought with myself, debating whether I should go back. Five steps past the woman. I was already almost late for Chinese, and quizzes were usually given right at the start of class; could I afford to stop? Ten steps past the woman. Would the woman be offended if I randomly stopped to ask if she was okay? Wouldn’t it be better if I just pretended to not notice the woman?

I’m ashamed to say, I didn’t go back. Even though I chastised myself each step of the way, I selfishly headed for my Chinese class instead. My grades, my GPA somehow outweighed the importance of human compassion.

At the end of the day, that small Chinese quiz meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. A few weeks from now, I won’t even remember what was on the quiz. But if I had stopped and made sure the woman was okay, the possible impact of that interaction is limitless. Perhaps she would have been annoyed at another person trying to butt into her business. Or perhaps something tragic had just occurred in her life, and she would have appreciated another person, maybe even a stranger, to be there for her.

While worrying so excessively about my grades, what other things have I missed out on in the world? How many potential friendships have I lost? How many beautiful moments did I turn my eyes from?

To what extent should grades not matter anymore?