It is so difficult to find words for the recent tragedies in Boston and West. Perhaps that is because there really are no words one can use sufficient enough for something like that. If words must be used, however, they should be words of support, encouragement, and comfort. During the past week, I have been amazed by the amount of support displayed by the people here in Koblenz. I found it comforting and thought that it was worth sharing; maybe others will also feel better to know that America is in the thoughts and prayers of Germany right now.

After the explosion in West, a professor stopped by before class to ask me if I was alright. The local newspaper has put both Boston and West on the front page instead of the usual local news. During the hunt for the Boston bombers, a student behind me in my German class would pass me his phone with live Twitter updates. Other students have asked me if West is close to my house and if everyone I know is safe. One even offered to make tea for me. But the words that meant the most to me were from a stranger.

I went to the post office on Thursday to buy stamps. I’ve been there a lot since January, mailing letters and postcards, and the same guy is always at the counter but our conversation has always been limited to how many stamps I’d like to buy. As I was going to leave, he asked me a question that he never had before (I’ll translate from the German):

“You’re from Texas?”

I told him he was right, with some surprise because most people assume I’m from Ireland or Scotland (is it the red hair?). I guess you’d notice something like that after sending dozens of my postcards to Texas, though.

“An accident happened there this morning, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s not far from where I live,” I said.

“That’s really sad,” he said, “I hope everything will be alright.”

I know it was a short conversation, and he didn’t say much. In context, though, it means a lot. First of all, Germans don’t talk a lot to strangers. You can sit at a bus stop for 15 minutes with a German and never exchange a word. It’s quite normal. Secondly, if they do talk to someone they don’t know, they don’t inquire into their personal life. Someone might ask me where I’m from because they hear my accent but this was the very first time he’d ever talked to me about anything. It matters that he asked about Texas; he remembered where I was from and just wanted to say something.

I’ve learned that no one is ever really alone through something like this. There are people all over the world who care and who want to show their support, and if they can’t reach out to the people directly affected, they will reach out to the nearest American they know. The world is so much more interconnected than I could have imagined from home, and it ultimately doesn’t matter where you come from; people just want to help. Even the smallest gestures are greatly appreciated.