The Touch
You've got a magical touch.
What, no one's told you? Well, it's not necessarily common knowledge, after all. It's not like magic is overly prevalent in this day and age, and skeptics have never been more pervasive. But I can promise you that you do have the magic touch, because everyone has the magic touch.
I'll bet you that, at some point in your life, you've smiled at a child, if for no other reason than they smiled at you first. I'll bet it was thoughtless, just a knee-jerk response: see a smile, return a smile. You probably forgot about that child about thirty seconds after that, as I'm sure you're a busy person, or at least a distracted one. The child, though, thought about the gentle stranger all day.
I'll bet you've stopped to pet a dog, or a cat, or to coo at a bird in a window. A minor part of your day, a passing fancy. That animal will not forget your scent, nor the sensation of your hand on its fur.
I'll bet someone has cried into your shoulder and left a damp spot there. I'll bet you've stopped to talk to a forlorn stranger. I'll bet you've bent to retrieve a dropped item, handed it to someone. I'll bet you've done something, anything, that helped someone on the brink of tears, someone who was convinced for all the world that they were alone, someone submerged in darkness, the kind you've experienced before, and I'll bet you've brought them light.
That's the thing about the magical touch. It's not a physical touch, not always. It's the ability, the near-magical ability, to leave an imprint on someone else's soul, in the same way they leave an imprint on yours. You adorn them with your fingerprints, each ridged line delicate and loving, and when they feel alone, they run their hands along the groove and remember that someone, somwehere in the world, noticed them and wanted them to live.
Remember, always, that you've left fingerprints, and that without you, the world would be missing a crucial, important, special magical touch.