Day 127: Little Acts of Kindness

My girlfriend Cherish told me a pretty disturbing story.

After work last week, she decided to run to TJ Maxx to do a little shopping.  She had to park pretty far from the store because the parking lot was full.  Cherish said when she pulled into the space, a woman was unloading a cart into the car in the next space.  Cherish turned off her engine, got out, and started to walk toward the store.  At the exact same time, the woman finished unloading her bags, and she too started to walk the empty cart toward the store.  They were practically walking together.

Cherish thought it silly for the woman to have to walk all the way back to the store to return the empty cart.  She turned to the woman and said, “Excuse me, would you like me to take that cart for you?”

The woman either did not hear her, or she completely ignored what Cherish said.  They were still a good ten car spots from the door.

Hoping it was the former, she repeated again, “Would you like me to take that cart for you?”

The woman stopped walking.  Cherish stopped walking.  The woman turned to her and glared.  “No!”  She then sped up, got to the door, and left the cart outside.

Cherish said she felt horrible.  All she wanted to do was to help, and she was vehemently denied, which got me thinking, have we developed such a lack of trust in our fellow man that we cannot recognize a good deed or kind act when it is staring us in the face?

Of course, as someone who believes in people, I think the majority of us do recognize random acts of kindness.  Just this morning, I was at the grocery store and a coupon slipped off of my cart.  I did not notice, I was already turning to the next aisle, but another woman did.

“I think you dropped this,” she said as she caught up to me.  It was a $2.00 off coupon for hair dye.  Seemingly, I would have bought it anyway, my greys are really starting to show, but I was definitely happy to have it back in my possession.

“Thank you so much,” I said.  “I didn’t realize I dropped it.”

The woman smiled.  “No problem.  Have a good day.”

“You, too,” I replied, and I meant it.  For the lack of a better way of saying this, this stranger made me feel happy.

No problem.  I think most people see helping others in small ways is really not being a problem.  Yet, all of those little niceties add up.  This woman definitely put me into a better mood.

Have a good day.  What a simple statement, but it says so much.  This woman wants me to have a good day.  She said it, and saying it out loud resonated with me.

Who knows, maybe her kindness kept me from freaking out at the stupid display in front of the shredded cheese, which made it impossible to have more than one person able to get cheese at the same time.  I saw the display, it registered that it seemed awkwardly placed, and I was forced to wait a few minutes before I could grab my mozzarella and my parmesan.  Yet, I waited patiently.  Usually, these types of things send me over the edge, but not today.

Personally, I cannot lose faith in my fellow man.

So Reader, I cannot hand you a coupon or push your cart, but I can say, “Thank you for reading, and I mean it when I say, I hope you have a good day!”



3 thoughts on “Day 127: Little Acts of Kindness

  1. Gosh…I hate to say it but I was just complaining to SM about this very behavior!

    When you have a job where you “serve” others, like I do, you tend to be “hard-wired” to be pleasant, respectful and open. I smile at strangers everyday at work and ask them questions.

    It therefore comes as a shock to me to be treated badly or ignored by others. I personally feel that our modern way of communicating (texting, FB, Twitter) is creating a situation where people won’t know how to interact face to face anymore.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s