Sometimes I do things just to be nice.
I don’t expect, nor do I want praise from others for doing whatever.
I do it because I have/can do something that can help someone else.
It makes me feel good.
When I talk about it, it’s in the context of “this made me feel good”, or “it bothers me that this situation is happening”.
Praise for acts of kindness bug me and make me feel weird.
Today I saw a mom at her wit’s end and suggested she start counting backwards instead of forwards, rationalizing that counting backwards from 10 helps people calm down. It’s what I do with Keylime.
She told me I was an angel…
What do you say to that, “Thank You”?
To me that seemed highly inappropriate, so I just smiled and said “hardly, but thank you for saying that.”
Where I live doesn’t do recycling, and where I used to dump my recycles now locks up their bin because the homeless people used to dig through it and make a mess.
The librarian at Boo’s school said I could use their recycle bin, which is awesome, but usually means my trunk is full of recycles.
A few weeks back before my Thursday protest I saw an elderly homeless couple near where I park. My trunk was full, and it occurred to me that most of the homeless people I see collect cans and plastic bottles.
So I asked them if they’d like to have my bottles and cans.
They were most happy about it and cleaned out my trunk.
The old man was careful not to touch my hands as I gave him boxes…
I felt bad about that, because they’re human beings. But at the same time, I’d rather not get sick. He was really dirty.
I was happy because I had an empty trunk, and they were happy because they had some money.
Yesterday we were going to Costco, and my trunk was full, so I told Moose “let’s find my homeless people”.
They weren’t there, but an old Winnebago was.
There were two kids hanging around outside. One looked about Boo’s age, maybe a few years younger, and the younger one looked about 8. They were thin and dirty.
I asked if they recycled and wanted my bottles. They were very happy, and their mom watched from the inside with their dad and little sister.
Moose gave me $5 to give their dad. His hands were blackened with dirt and grime.
I kept thinking about them, and when Keylime wanted to go look at christmas lights last night I packed up a couple care packages for the family and got all the bottles that hadn’t been in my trunk.
When we got to the Winnebago, the door was open and I heard voices, but no one answered my calls. I figure they thought I might be a cop or something.
The older boy came walking up and his eyes got huge when he saw all the bottles I brought.
His mom came to the door and there was a younger little boy that I hadn’t seen before. Six people living in that old Winnebago.
Moose told them that everything will be okay, and the older boy replied “it’s been 2 years, and everything is always okay.”
(he didn’t seem convinced of his own words, and I hope he didn’t get in trouble for them.)
As we were leaving, the little boy, must’ve been 3 or 4 said “Merry Christmas!”
If I’d had the room I would’ve brought those children home and fed them and let them wash. Given them clean clothes…
This morning after I dropped off Keylime (Boo was sick) I went and bought some gifts for the kids. Little things, nothing too fancy, I just really wanted them to have something.
But they were gone.
When Boo was a baby around Christmastime we were having a hard time financially.
We got a phone call one night from “Santa’s Helpers” telling Moose to open the front door.
There was a box of groceries, some diapers, and a little cash.
The note attached asked us to do the same for someone when we could.
I’ve never forgotten that, and anytime I can, I do.
The line is”be good for goodness’ sake”…for the sake of goodness.
Not because you’ll get soemthing in return, but because it’s the right thing to do.
Sometimes I do things just to be nice.