It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m at work, editing a complaint that will start a lawsuit. My computer monitor faces a wall, and I can’t see out my second-story office window unless I turn around.
One of my law partners drops by to discuss a case, causing me to swivel my chair and face him. Shortly into the conversation, I glance out the window, and I see a middle-aged man walking down the street. He stops at the intersection. As he waits for the light to change, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his cell phone. Two pieces of paper drop out of his pocket, unnoticed by him while he is talking on the phone. The pedestrian light changes to “Walk,” and he moves through the intersection.
I am certain that I know what those little pieces of paper are: likely a meaningless receipt from a coffee shop or maybe a short grocery list. I know that it is a waste of time to run out to the street to retrieve them for him; I also know I’m going to do it anyhow. I sprint down the building stairs and run over to the intersection.
The little pieces of paper are blowing around in the breeze. I grab them right before they make a break for freedom into the busy street beyond. In an instantaneous flash of movement and recognition, I see that the random paperwork is, in fact, two small wads of bills. It’s not a huge amount of money – maybe $40 or $50—but enough that its absence will be missed by the owner. The middle-aged man is nowhere to be found; he has disappeared into one of the buildings in our commercial/industrial neighborhood.
I take a chance and run into the gas station food mart across the street, and there he is, telling the cashier that he ran out of gas two blocks away. As he reaches into his pocket, I smile and tell him that he dropped his money on the street. He hesitates, gives me a hug, and says, “that’s all the money I had.” The gratitude in his eyes makes me pause; my inconsequential effort has probably made his somewhat lousy day significantly less so.
The event made me think about kindness in a new light. I am good at opening doors for people with their hands full, and I robotically thank folks I interact with. But intentional kindness is something I had not considered before -- viewing the world with an eye towards opportunities to exercise concern and thoughtfulness. Both givers and recipients of goodwill are probably more inclined to see goodness in others, and a single good deed might create a snowball of benevolence.
The world can be annoying and frustrating, as well as scary and sad, at times. Let’s take care of each other in basic ways that can set goodness in motion. The simple truth is that humanity is its own reward.