Random Acts of Kindness

Despite the fact that my head is pounding, my throat is raw and I feel like I got smacked repeatedly with a bat, I am in an inexplicable good mood. Maybe it is the drugs in the Affrin nasal spray or the mountain of caffeine I have just consumed. Whatever the reason, Pollyanna is still alive and kicking. What the hell has come over me? Who is this ridiculously positive person and what did she do with my cynical alter ego?

Perhaps it is the weather. The arrival of spring seems to bring out the best in everyone. Maybe the impending wedding? The fact that I get to party with my family and friends for days on end. Although my nightmare about showing up sans date seems to support to the contrary. How about the fresh flowers all over my condo? They tend to be more inspiring then the fake plants I normally have because I can’t be trusted not to kill real ones.

Could it be as simple as believing that people are inherently good? After some of the things I had gone through in the past few months, that belief had started to wan. But all it takes is one random act of kindness from a stranger to restore it.

The first time I fully realized the power of a random act of kindness was on Valentine’s Day, Boston 2000. It was my first year in the city and I was miserable. Sad, lonely, broke, and pathetic. This must have registered all over my face as I walked down the street on my way to the Arlington T station. A homeless man sitting on the street corner stopped me to wish me a Happy Valentine’s Day. I thanked him and repeated the sentiment with much less enthusiasm. He jumped up and followed me to the station where he handed me a single red rose. “You look like you could use a smile.” He said and walked away.

That made my day and 6 years later I still think of it and smile. To have no ulterior motives and to just do something without expecting anything is return is special. And it doesn’t happen everyday.

Yesterday’s occurrence was on a much smaller scale. The guy making my sandwich at the deli gave me two pickles. Wow, earth shattering, right? What you have to understand is that around here pickles are a hot commodity. You don’t get one unless you ask for it. I didn’t ask and got two. The ironic part is that I hate pickles. They gross me out to no end…the smell, the taste, even the juice that soaks into my bread and ruins my whole sandwich. Despite my intense dislike for pickles, I found this gesture to be very sweet. Maybe it was because I was feeling even crappier then I do today. Whatever the reason, this little thing made me smile.

I don’t know if I am just super sensitive, easy to please or just plain weird. Whatever the case may be, the little things can often mean as much to someone as the big things…especially when things aren’t going your way. What may seem like a small thing to you could make someone else’s day or at the very least, can make them smile.

I know, I know…Pollyanna is rearing her ugly head again. Don’t worry guys; it is creepy for me too.