I stopped for coffee this morning at 7-Eleven (don’t judge—I promise it was early and I was desperate). The morning was quiet, the kind of quiet that only exists before the world fully wakes up. I was half-lost in my own thoughts when I noticed a little girl staring at me from across the store. And then she did something unexpected—she shrieked, ducking behind her mother.

My heart sank. I froze, unsure what I had done. Her mother bent down to calm her and asked what had happened. The little girl whispered something, and the mother turned to me with a mixture of apology and awe.

“She thinks you’re Wonder Woman,” she said in broken English. “She…she loves you. Could you…?”

Before she could finish, I knew exactly what I had to do. “OF COURSE!” I said, dropping to her level with a smile.

And suddenly, I was having the sweetest, most earnest conversation with a 4-year-old that I have ever had outside of my own nieces.

“Why aren’t you wearing your uniform?” she asked, eyes wide and serious.

“Well,” I began, “I work with non-superheroes most of the day—even though we do super hero stuff on the computer.”

“Do you fight bad guys on the computer?” she asked, curiosity sparkling in her voice.

“Sometimes, yes,” I said, “but we also build some really cool stuff, too.”

Her gaze sharpened. “But when do you wear your boots and tiara? When do you fight crime with your bracelets?”

I laughed softly. “Lots. Lots and lots. I love my boots—and I’ll tell you a secret. Even when you can’t see my tiara, I’m wearing a crown. It’s like my Invisible Jet. Want to touch it?”

Her little face froze in awe. Slowly, carefully, she reached out and touched my head. Then she smiled—the kind of smile that lights up everything around it—and said, “You have hair just like mine!”

I laughed again and asked, “Do you want my crown?”

Her eyes sparkled like she had just been handed a piece of magic. “I have more, promise,” I said, “but I want you to have this one.”

Her joy was palpable. She hugged me tightly, and her mother whispered her thanks. In that moment, being late for work didn’t matter. Not one bit. Because in that little girl’s world, she had met her hero, and I had the privilege of reminding her just how special she already is.

As she skipped away, clutching her new crown, I realized something. This little girl would carry that moment with her. She would carry herself like she had invisible wings, like she could face anything, because someone had reminded her that she was worthy, powerful, and seen.

And isn’t that what we all need? A little reminder that we are more than what the world tells us we are? A crown, an Invisible Jet, a superhero hug—it doesn’t take much to change someone’s entire day, their entire perspective.

So here’s my lesson from this morning: sometimes, the smallest gestures—the crown you give, the time you take, the patience you show—can turn fear into awe, hesitation into courage, and ordinary mornings into extraordinary memories.

Go be superheroes, friends. You never know whose heart you’ll lift, whose day you’ll make, or whose invisible crown you’ll place upon a deserving head.