People are kind.
I know that’s not always the case. I know. I think of myself as kind, but I am certainly not always that way. I snark. I pick. I mock. I do, I know. But usually, I try. I try to be kind. And I think most other people do, too. And I appreciate it.
A friend is hiring my Kid 2 to clean at her house. I really, really hope this works out for everyone. My Kid 2 is a great worker. When she wants to be. I believe this is the definition of being 14. (Almost 15. I remember. How could I forget?) And my friend is perfectly cpapble of cleaning her large and lovely home, but she’s willing to hire my Kid to help her, because my Kid 2 recently rediscovered that the money tree we planted is not, in fact, fruiting this year. And New York is calling. So, she cleans. And it’s good.
A whole load of people were kind to my Kid 4 yesterday. He attended his first cub scout day camp. Oh, the joys of being a smallish boy surrounded by many, many other smallish boys. Many kind people drove, attended, served, protected my boy yesterday. And he came home raving about the joys of gluing birdhouses, shooting BB guns, and (wait for it) archery. Just like Hawkeye. The Avenger, not the M*A*S*H doctor. He doesn’t know who that is. But he knows the Avenger, and he “hit the second ring in the target” and was feeling pretty darn proud.
People are kind to me. Giving me the benefit of the doubt, being thankful for service, appreciating my words. It feels good. I’m grateful. It’s heart-filling to get these kind words, and it makes me want to be better at benefactoring. So often I think it has to be financial, that I can’t really offer much if I can’t offer dollars, but that’s crazy. It is. I can offer so much more than money. I can offer time. I can offer sustenance. I can offer BREAD, people. I can offer sympathy, and I can listen to someone talk, and I can change a baby. I can bring in a meal. I can sit by a bedside. I can read a story. Sometimes I can even write one, and that can help too. I can mow a lawn. I can wash dishes or laundry or a car. I can seek out goodness and comment on it. I can write a thank-you note. I can give an honest compliment. I can stand in the right place. In a time of tragedy, my dad likes to say, “Don’t just do something, stand there.” Because the Being There is often the most important kindness we can offer. Also, there’s the “Don’t ask what you can do, just do what you can do.” And you know, I always think of those things in times of injury, or illness, or tragedy, but it doesn’t have to wait. Everyone is going through something, and everyone has days when their cup runs dry.
I want to add to the pool of kindness this summer. I think it’s a pretty good use of my time and energy. It’s one of those “everyone wins” situations, and I love it when everyone wins.
(6) Comments for this blog
Okay, “don’t just do something, stand there” is perhaps one of the best lines I’ve ever heard.
Great post. Maybe tomorrow I’ll toss my own small pebble into the giant pool of kindness, too 🙂
Okay, “don’t just do something, stand there” is perhaps one of the best lines I’ve ever heard.
Great post. Maybe tomorrow I’ll toss my own small pebble into the giant pool of kindness, too 🙂
This is something that’s actually been on my mind a lot lately. I find it impossible to reflect on how blessed I am, how good people are, without wanting to bless the lives of other, to be good too.
Paying it forward, there are few things sweeter, yes?
This is something that’s actually been on my mind a lot lately. I find it impossible to reflect on how blessed I am, how good people are, without wanting to bless the lives of other, to be good too.
Paying it forward, there are few things sweeter, yes?
as a benefactor of your kindness. . .i would like to say, “thank you.”
as a benefactor of your kindness. . .i would like to say, “thank you.”