Random Acts

Sometimes during quiet moments I think about the course of my day, and remember the encounters I have with people who've I met, but with whom I am not friendly. Retrospectively, I think of the kind acts they have bestowed upon me, and smile.

When traveling, I sometimes realize, after sitting on the plane, that the person who checked me in gave me a better seat than the one presented on my ticket. When traveling on a trans-Atlantic 12 hour flight, I was pleasantly surprised with an upgrade that was given unbeknownst to me. I only realized after sitting that I have been upgraded to a seat that had 2 vacant next to me an was located in a front row of seats and the next row was about 12 feet in front of me allowing me ample room on all sides.

When arriving at John F. Kennedy Airport for a 2 1/2 week vacation, I forgot that JFK and all other airports in NYC have no post office boxes, and I had a bunch of mail that I erroneously thought I could drop off there. After remembering when I saw no post office boxes and inquired for confirmation that per 9/11 they had been yanked out, I asked a proprietor of a store what could one do to get their mail in a p.o. box, and he said he would mail it personally, after he inquired about the mail's contents. I blinked and thanked him profusely and offered to give him something for his effort which he refused.

I walked away with a big smile on my face. I was happy that my mail was going to be posted, but I was happy more so because someone understood my situaltion and out of the goodness of their heart did something for me, a stranger, and that made me feel good.

There are so many incidents of this kind that after getting home I think about and am able to fill me up with the goodness that they exude. The guy who reached a seat on the train that we were both aiming for, who sees me, bows, and lets me have it. The lady who holds the door open for me. The woman walking behind me who sees that the tag to my shirt is sticking out of my blouse and sticks it in saying she does that all the time too, and no one tells her, so she is not only telling me but putting it down my shirt. These nice acts are the ones that pile up in my mind into a mound of goodness. And I often am not able to drink up this goodness until I get home as when they are happening they go by so quickly. But though they are quick, they are meaningful. They, these kind acts, make up the fabric of everyday existence.

It is moments like these, random acts of kindness, that re-enforce my view of the world. My view can be somewhat clouded at times by the few, but none the less, devastating acts of nastiness that I sometimes encounter, but I do believe in the good of people. I believe this good is inherent.