It's The Little Things

I recently travelled from West Kent to London on a day return ticket. Not my usual commuter season ticket, but the little paper one that the guard likes to stamp authoritatively. How sweet when I noticed that instead of the usual round punch there was in its place a butterfly. Now the service wasn't particularly great - the carriage was dirty and the train ran 15 minutes late. But it was the butterfly that I remembered at the end of the journey. I found myself smiling when the standard of service would otherwise have made me feel grumpy. Why? Because it suggested attention to detail, and care for passengers, it was done for no other reason than to give a little pleasure.