I was at Bonchon, minding my business and waiting for my food, when something quietly magical happened at the table beside mine. It made me smile and reflect on life while I was having my meal.
A trio of aunties, probably in their 60s, were laughing and chatting away, radiating that warm, familiar joy that only longtime friendships can bring. Then, something caught my eye: one of the aunties was being surprised by her two friends. They had somehow gotten the staff to assemble what I can only call a “Bonchon birthday cake” — a bowl of rice, stacked with golden fried chicken pieces, a single candle perched proudly on top. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t Instagram-perfect. But it was perfect.
She was clearly surprised. Her face lit up in the kind of happiness that’s impossible to fake — a wide smile, misty eyes, and a laugh that made everyone nearby smile with her. It had nothing to do with me but I could feel her happiness. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the decor, not the price of the meal, not whether they had a real cake or not. What mattered was love, thoughtfulness, and being seen by people who care.
And just like that, I was reminded: Happiness is actually simple.
It’s a shared meal. A silly candle. A small surprise. Friends who remember.
It’s laughter over fried chicken and decades of inside jokes.
It’s not about chasing the extraordinary, but about embracing the ordinary moments with the right people.
As I watched them take photos, laugh and dig into their chicken “cake,” I found myself smiling too. It was sweet, sincere, and completely unfiltered. And in today’s world where everything is curated for perfection, that moment felt like a quiet rebellion — a reminder that joy doesn’t need to be big, loud, or expensive.
May these kinds of friendships find us.
May we grow old with people who celebrate us with rice bowls and chicken candles.
And may we always remember: happiness is actually simple.
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