A bit of kindness

A few weeks ago I was out running errands, something I rarely get to do alone, and I stopped off to pick up a book of stamps at our local post office. I was feeling energized and excited because I’d just renewed my library card and I was not only armed with an activated card, but applicable knowledge on how to use the digital lending system. I was high on my soon-to-be literary freedom when I noticed that an elderly woman was getting out of her car about the same time I’d reached the door to exit the building. Taking a moment, I paused, holding the door wide in invitation, smiling in a way that says, “Hi, stranger, I’m perfectly content to wait for you to make your way through the doorway while I hold the door for you. No rush. No irritation. I’m happy to help.” (My smile can say all that.)There was this amazing moment when our eyes met and I knew that she knew that I was going to hold the door for her and her whole demeanor changed.

My initial impression of the woman as she exited her car was that she was elderly, of course, but perhaps sick, tired? But spiritually tired, the kind that’s reflected in more than your eyes, weighing on your skin and dragging everything down. I imagined she was a widow whose kids had moved away. While dressed with an attention to detail, she was moving slowly, face impassive, her body curled into itself as if to protect her from the sunlight of the summer morning. But in a flash all of that was gone; she was strong and spry, her pace quickened and she smiled magnificently, the weariness and loneliness pushed from her face by the force of the rounding of her cheeks. I re-wrote her story. A retired teacher who still tutored for extra cash. We exchanged pleasantries, the way that you do, before we moved on. She told me that I had a beautiful smile; I wished her a lovely day. The warmth of brief interaction stayed with me for days, renewing my emotional vigor and compelling me to tackle tough things in my day to day.

It was good to do something healing. Whimsically, I toyed with the idea of wanting to do something nice, random, on a larger scale - cut out hundreds of hearts, or smiley faces, and hand them out at the mall, or a street corner - but I know that I can’t drag my two year old to the side of the road to satisfy her mother’s strange need to give joy away.

My mother-in-law grows small plants in decorated pots and donates them to nursing homes, her positive contribution on the world. I think it’s a beautiful idea, but not something I could replicate successfully.

Thinking about Reba, my mother-in-law, reminded me that last Christmas she gifted me with two large jars of beads and baubles, all mixed together and colorful, and a roll of clear, stretchy chord. I’m selfish, my time limited like everyone else, so I knew that I couldn’t hand out bracelets to the world at large, but I recalled the conversation I’d had with the nurse at my OBGYN’s office. In the midst of making small talk, she mentioned that the job that she had was high stress, oftentimes people only make it three days before quitting because they can’t handle the pressure of a busy practice, filled to the brim with pregnant and hormonal women. At the time I made appropriate sympathetic noises, telling her how much I appreciate her, because I do. It’s rare to WANT to go to have someone play peek-a-boo with your vagina, let alone stab you with a monstrous needle once a month. And I look forward to my office visits like they’re social events and I’m going to be having margaritas with my girl friends. So I made her a bracelet. My next appointment isn’t until October, but I’m looking forward to finding her a card and a little box to present it to her in. Make it a big deal.

Because I don’t think we do that enough. I know that I don’t.

So, what can you do? Is there someone you see that, maybe you don’t appreciate enough? A partner, co-worker, barista, bus driver.... And can you make a small gesture that will infuse that person with a little joy, some self-worth? Because when you’re not with them they may be struggling. Be better than what’s been done to you. If you’re so inclined.