At some point, we all end up in situations where the impossible seems to happen. Sometimes, it’s because we haven’t slept well, but other times it feels like the universe is making something happen that we’d only expect to see in a movie.

Years ago, I used to take the same bus home every evening and always sat in the back. One day, a nice but quiet man sat next to me. We talked about random things for a short time—nothing important. As I got close to my stop, he looked at me and said, “We’ll meet again, but next time, things will be different.” I just smiled, thinking it was a strange thing to say.

He wasn’t on the bus the next day, and I never saw him again. A few weeks later, I found him in old family photos with my grandmother. There he was—a younger version of the man from the bus, standing next to my grandmother in the old picture.

Shocked, I asked my grandmother who he was. She looked at the picture and, with a sad smile, said, “That’s your grandfather. He passed away when you were just a baby.” I couldn’t believe it—the man I had spoken to on the bus was my grandfather, who had died long before I could remember him. Even today, I still take that same bus sometimes, wondering if I’ll ever see him again, just like he said.