Random acts of kindness

I don’t generally perform random acts of kindness. Sure I’ll pick up the stray vegetable in the grocery store or help someone cross the street or hold the door for someone who has their hands full. Not to say I’m an unkind person. I would like to think of myself as somewhat socially responsible and I do like to help when I can.

But yesterday it dawned on me that I don’t perform random acts of kindness and that I may be more measured in my generosity or kindness. We donate to several charities; I believe in many causes, but I give it thought and choose where to donate. I rarely give money to homeless people. Although some years ago, my daughter and I made packets with cans of soup and granola bars and handed them to homeless people holding up signs. But that was not a random act of kindness. I had thought it through. I did not want to give them money in case it got used for drugs or alcohol, but I did feel the urge to help when I saw a homeless person holding up a sign. So that was my measured kindness.

Yesterday, I was at the social security office to get my lastname changed (of course only after my husband told me that we could not file our taxes till it happened. Sheepishly I finally dragged myself there). It’s always an interesting bunch at the social security office. There was a sweet old lady somewhere in her seventies sitting next to me. Another lady came by and asked her how much longer it was going to take. Her number (quite close to mine) was ways away. The woman handed her a five dollar bill and said, “Here’s some money for the bus in case you don’t get your check today”. The chairs were stuck to each other and everybody around her heard this. The sweet old lady didn’t seem embarrassed or uncomfortable and was ever so gracious. She thanked the younger lady for giving her a ride and for the money. Her acceptance of the situation that she found herself in was so graceful and dignified. I was more ruffled than she was to learn that she didn’t have money even for the bus ride home.

I squirmed in my chair. She remained perfectly poised. An hour later, just as they called her number, I said to her, “I could give you a ride home. Wherabouts do you live?” She was surprised but seemed pleased. I told her I would be done in a few minutes and could take her home. She was very gracious and told me where she needed to go. I was surprised at myself. For I rarely help complete strangers to this extent. I would never give a ride to a hitchhiker (besides, with my habit of stepping into unwanted adventures, that is probably wise). My heart went out to the old woman, but it had taken me a while to offer help. I had sat next to her in silence, listening to my music, thinking of all the strange things that normally travel through my head, and from time to time wondering whether to offer help. And it was no momentous deed either – it was just a ride home.

Yet this was my random act of kindness. I wish I could tell you how good it felt and how elated I was and how delighted she was and how we developed this beautiful friendship… Sigh… move on to a different blog if you’re looking for that.

I was mostly awkward and even a little uncomfortable, even though it did feel good. The old lady was delighted and tad puzzled. We didn’t exchange names or numbers or life stories and I was glad. Surprising that… for I happily share my life story or experiences with strangers. I was trying to maintain a cool composure and didn’t want her to feel any less dignified for she was all dignity and composure. And I would never want her to lose any of it. She thanked me sincerely, but with great composure and I was thankful she was in no way gushy.

I wish I could say that from here on, I will be the epitome of random acts of kindness. Unlikely. For I had stepped outside my comfort zone. Was I glad I did so? I truly was. Will I do so again? Unlikely.

I don’t even know what kind of letting go needs to happen to allow for random acts of kindness. I don’t know that I will ever be capable or comfortable with it or even begin to understand what it takes. For despite my stray act of random kindness, I think I may still be a little bewildered.