The train I wanted to catch at ten

In 1994 I was ten years old and lived in the countryside of Rio Grande do Sul. My aunt Rosana, noticing that I'd started studying English and was excited about it, gave me an issue of Speak Up — that magazine that came with a cassette tape to train your ear on the articles.

The article I listened to and reread the most was about the tunnel under the English Channel and the Eurostar, the bullet train that would connect England to France beneath the sea. For a boy from the countryside who'd barely left his state, that was science fiction. I remember thinking, with no plan for how: one day I'm going to ride that train.

Twenty-eight years later, I boarded in London bound for Paris, on the Eurostar. It wasn't just any trip — I was carrying that boy with me.

I tell this less for the trip and more for aunt Rosana. She didn't give me an expensive gift or a great lesson. She noticed. She spotted a small interest at the right moment and fed it with a magazine and a tape. It was enough to light something that lasted almost three decades.

That's what I've learned to value looking back: a child's imagination is enormous, and what's almost always missing isn't talent — it's someone who notices and bets on it in time. Today, as a father and as a manager, I try to be that kind of person: the one who notices the other's interest before they even know how to name it.

Thank you, aunt Rosana. The train arrived.