Kindness: Street Crossing

There's a crossing guard who's on our block in the mornings. You don't usually see crossing guards unless they're right in front of a school. Which isn't the case on our block, however there is a school a few blocks away. I guess that's part of living in a city though - since more kids walk to school, they need more crossing guards to keep everyone safe.

Anyway, our crossing guard is a super-nice guy. He walks out into the intersection for everyone with his little stop sign and neon yellow jacket. He smiles, he chats, he waves to the passers by. Which is more than I can say for another guard I pass in the mornings when I take the bus - that guy takes about two steps off the curb and silently stands there looking all gruff.

Our friendly crossing guard always has a smile on his face and rosy cheeks (most-likely due to the chilly morning air). He's not an old guy, maybe in his late 30s, but he's a little round and very jolly. To be honest, he kind of creeped me out when he first showed up - just kinda a weird job for not-a-granddad. But now our brief morning exchange makes me smile. He always speaks first. Sometimes I try to beat him to it.

"Good morning, how are you today?"
"Fine thanks, and you?"
"I'm great, hope you have a good day.:
"Thanks. You, too!"

And that's our typical morning exchange as I round the corner on the way to work. A nice start to my morning.

Kindness: On the ski slope

It started with a girl’s weekend. Me and a few other gals from my office headed up to New Hampshire to spend the weekend hanging out, shopping, and skiing. There were two in the group who had not really skied before (“the Beginners”) – one, pretty much never (“Zero” experience), the other about ten years ago (“Minor” experience). So, while the rest of us geared up and headed toward the blue slopes, the remaining two headed to a lesson. Or so we thought. While we enjoyed a morning of great skiing with the occasional lovely snow shower, the others were stranded elsewhere on the mountain.

It started when the ski rental line was enormous. For some reason, it took well over an hour to rent skis and boots. Bummer. So, the Beginners missed the 11:00 lesson. So they decided to shoot for the 12:00 one. In the mean time, they decided that they shouldn’t waste an entire hour, especially after having stood in line forever. They could totally get in one run before noon. So they headed to the lifts that led to a green slope.

There may or may not have been some confusion in the lift line when the guy scanned their beginner (read: restricted-to-certain–small-slopes) lift tickets, but he let them through anyway. Amazingly, Zero made it on and off the ski lift in once piece. To me, that’s pretty shocking, seeing as I still get nervous getting off, and I ate it EVERY lift ride the few times I tried snowboarding. Well done.

The problem started when they got to the top of the green slope and looked over. It was just a tad steeper than expected. A few kindly skiers, seeing them look uncertainly down the slope, made sure to let them know that the top was the hardest part and that it leveled out significantly further down. With some quick instructions from Minor about “pizza” and “snow plow” they began their descent. Onward they went.

For a bit. Until Zero got going too fast in her snow plow position and fell. And got up and fell. And got up and fell, fell, fell. Every few feet, every few inches. Meanwhile, Minor was cautiously making her way down a little more smoothly. She trailed, yelling directions and cheers and gathering skis and poles as they detached from Zero. Several skiers stopped to talk to them on the way down, lend support, return a stray pole, give them pointers. But still, stressful cannot begin to describe their descent. Grueling is more like it, on both their parts. Zero for the shock and the physical exhaustion. Minor for the cheerleading, the picking-up-the-pieces and the getting-herself-down-in-one-piece-too in the 2 hours it took to do so.

Major kindness props to Minor for sticking with it. Not freaking out. Not abandoning her friend. Not leaving her for a minute, even if it would have been to get help. Not being too annoyed that she was missing out on skiing a bit more, a bit faster. There was also great kindness shown by strangers on the mountain. From the first guy who said the trail got less steep just past the top to the (presumably) several others who helped cheer them along and pick up the odd ski or two. And also to Zero who didn’t kill Minor for taking her up the mountain and who didn’t give up.

After all that, they missed their 12:00 lesson. Zero has quit skiing for good. And Minor conquered the green slope a few times after lunch. I think we all learned a lot that day, about skiing, patience, perseverance and kindness.

Kindness: An Umbrella

Last week was a really rainy wee. It was supposed to be a really snowy week, but, for the hundredth time this winter, the weathermen were all wrong. Precipitation, yes. Snowfall, no. Howling winds, yes. Blizzarding snow, no.

One of those mornings, the weather was all crazy. It was gently raining when I woke up for work. It was pouring by the time I left to catch the bus. I was semi-prepared - I had a Gustbuster umbrella, but a not-too-waterproof coat. I wasn't expecting the turn from gentle rain to pouring. The Gustbuster held up marvelously, as it should given its price and performance promise.

I work from 9-5, but Co-worker works from 10-6. So she gets in about an hour later than I do each day. Apparently in that hour-long window, the pouring rain turned into a raining-sideways monsoon. Or, more accurately, the nor;easter bared its teeth. Co-worker left her house and headed to the T. Unfortunately, halfway between her house and the subway stop, her umbrella taco'd. It folded in half, inside out. This left her with a conundrum. Run home or run onward to catch the train. She was halfway between. Which way to go?

She knew once she reached the station, she wouldn't have to be outside anymore that day, well, until the evening when she'd be walking back home after getting off the subway. She made a decision and hurried toward the subway stop. Inside the station, there are massive escalators, newspaper stands and an information booth. It was from the booth that the kindness came.

People leave things on the T all the time. I always laugh at the announcers (in my mind) when they remind us, "don't gorget to take your belongings." I mean, how can you forget your briefcase or purse or groceries. But I guess it's easier to forget the little things: the gloves, the hats, the umbrellas. So, the man at the information booth collects left-behind umbrellas, for just such a situation as this.

When he saw Co-worker come into the station, drenched without an umbrella in-hand, he offered one. One of the left-behinds. It was a lender, to be returned once she didn't need it anymore. Once she got home that night and found another one.

What a great, nice, kind, smart idea.