Kindness: A Compliment

I spend a good amount of time on public transportation. In case you haven't noticed. And public transportation is really just a gathering of all corners of humanity. I am eagle-eyed for kindness in such places, particularly because kindness seems scarce at those times - it's all, get out of my personal space!, where the crap is the train!, SIGH!, sheesh!, UGH!

So, I put some kindness out into the world. You see, I spotted a girl on my morning commute wearing a really cute skirt. It was a plaid one, but with a little more pizzaz than usual. And, wouldn't you know it, I found the same girl standing right beside me on my commute home. So I took some action and paid her a compliment - I really like your skirt. Just a little compliment, but it made her smile. Just a tiny kindness for a stranger.

Kindness: Spare Change

This week has been a busy week of lunchtime errands. It's almost Thanksgiving and I had a lot of things to do before we're gone for a whole week.

On Tuesday, I headed over to Newbury Street to make an exchange at one of the shops. On the way, I was accosted by one of those non-profit sellers. You know, the people on every street corner in busy areas of the city asking if you care about the children, the polar bears, the trees or any array of things that, yes, I do care about, but not enough to stand there and talk to you and give you my credit card information. I can make charity donations on my own, and I'm sorry you're getting commission off of trapping people on the street.

I quickly dismissed the latest charity hawker and was, again, stopped by someone else on the sidewalk. I almost just ignored him and kept walking, tired of the barrage interrupting my quick errand. But I didn't. I stopped and let him to his schpiel. He was a homeless man selling the homeless paper - Spare Change. Selling the volunteer-run paper is a way for the homeless to make a little extra money. I'd always see those guys, just never stopped to talk or get a paper. I asked how much it was. He said whatever I wanted to give, "Maybe $5?" Well, all I had was a one bill and a twenty. So I gave him a dollar. And then emptied my change into his open hands - which, to be honest, there was at least another two dollars in there.

A little change to help him make a big one.

Kindness: A Bunch

This past weekend one of my friends was in town. She works for a blindness non-profit and was up here to volunteer at one of their walks. So Saturday morning we got up bright and early to lend a hand. There were some refreshments at the walk, and, after all the walkers had walked their feet right on out to their cars to head home, there was still a bunch left over. Specifically bananas and bagels. Crates of them. Us volunteers discussed it and everyone grabbed a handful. And there were still crates and crates left. So we discussed again and decided someone would take a load to one of the local soup kitchens.

On our drive home, a homeless man was at an intersection asking for money. Instead of offering him money, we asked if he wanted some (leftover) bagels. Nope, a no on the bagels - too tough it seems. Wait, we have bananas too. Yes please! So I jumped out of the car and opened the trunk and gave him a few bananas off one of our bunches. A little snack for the day. And a little bunch of kindness.

Kindness: Bless You

If anyone has been around me for a reasonable amount of time, co-workers or friends or family, you know that when I sneeze, I go all out. Not in the one-sneeze-that'll-blow-your-house-down kind of way. Nope. It's more of a I'll-sneeze-three-million-times-in-a-row kind of way. Medium sneezes, but minimum of about four at a time in quick succession, usually six. I think my record is nine.

If around strangers, someone will bless me after the first one. When the second one goes, they bless again. But after that, they stop. Usually to be followed up with a final bless you and a comment like 'are you OK?!' or 'how many was that?' or just a 'jeez!'

One evening last week I was exiting the train at my home station when a sneezing fit came on. I had rushed to get on the train, so I was in the back instead of the usual front, which meant I had to walk the full length of the platform to the exit. Sneezing away, I walk-sneezed down the platform along side the train. As our train was emptying, the train on the opposite side of the platform was getting ready to depart. Mid-way through the departing subway train, a second conductor sat. He must have watched me walk-sneezing down the platform, because, when I passed by, sneezing my grand finale I heard a, "Bless you." I looked around, and, again, having been at the back of the train, it was rather sparse. That's when I realized that it had been the conductor, all the way from across the platform.

Kindness: Neighbors

One of my good friends turned thirty recently, joining me in the next decade of our lives. She told me a great story when we went out for drinks a few nights later.

On the eve of her birthday, Friend had been hanging out with some buddies and got home late that night. Upon returning to her building, she found something unexpected. Nestled in her doorway was a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a card. Hm, wonder who stopped by, she thought. Not to mention, how'd they get into the building? Pleasantly puzzled, she let herself into her apartment and opened the card: Some special people make the world brighter just by being in it...happy 30th birthday!, it read. Signed: James & Deborah "your Boston parents"

A-MAZ-ING.

Flash back to a few months before - some new neighbors had moved into Friend's building. She ran into the couple in the hall and they chatted for a while. They were about her parent's age and had recently decided to move into the city, selling their house in the country now that their kids were grown and gone. Friend mentioned, just briefly in passing, that her birthday was coming up soon, September 1st to be exact.

A-MAZ-ING. Just a tiny comment during a brief conversation. Just something mentioned and moved past. But they remembered. They remembered Friend's special day. And made her special day in the process. A random act of kindness, neighbor to neighbor.

Kindness: Supplies

I can't believe it's basically the end of the summer. I mean, technically August is summer, but September is right around the corner. And while kids up here in New England haven't boarded a big yellow bus to start the 2010-2011 school year, kids down south have. Shocking.

Yesterday, Husband and I decided to donate to some schools. I had just read an article about a website that you could do that through. I had donated that way in the past and thought it was really neat, but couldn't remember the site I used (I've since remembered). You can go on to the site(s) and look up classrooms by school name, city, state, teacher, etc. You can also find out school stats including their poverty / free lunch levels. You can read all about the projects teachers are trying to fund or see a list of materials that they need.

I spent a year working in a school as an assistant second grade teacher. It was a nice, fairly well funded school, but all the teachers were still in need of things; letters constantly went home to parents about classroom needs - tissues, hand sanitizer, a new pencil sharpener. Now, working at a company, I can literally just walk upstairs, browse the supply room and grab all the pens and paperclips I need. In schools, there's no such thing. Teachers have to provide almost all their supplies themselves. This is particularly hard for first-year teachers, as teachers build up their supplies over the years. First-year teachers are starting from a blank slate, an empty classroom with empty pockets, having just graduated from school.

Think about your first days of school: how exciting it was to walk into a new classroom, how exciting it was to see all the books and the cushy beanbag chairs in the reading nook, how exciting it was going to be doing new projects. Now imagine a classroom with paltry bulletin board decorations, with just a few books on a shelf in the corner, without the opportunity to watch butterflies grow from cocoons, to see how tangrams can make all sorts of animals, to use cuisinaire rods to learn math skills. Sad isn't it?

So take a minute and a few dollars and donate. Since it's almost fall. Since teacher assignments are coming in the mail. Since school buses are getting shined up and tuned up and prepped for service. Since some kids are buying new backpacks and lunchboxes, while others' moms are sewing up holes in last year's.

Here are some sites. I'm sure there are other resources in your local area, too.

Donors Choose
I donated here in the past

I Love Schools
Here are the classrooms we donated to this year - 1 in each state we grew up in, and 1 where we now live. Donate with us or search the site for one that interests you.
Dorchester, MA
Chapel Hill, NC
Andalusia, AL

Kindness: Large Luggage

Yesterday, when on my epic commute into work, I ran across a kindness.

Husband and I were making our way from the Red line to the Orange line of the subway which involved some substantial stairs. While rushing down the right side of the staircase, someone was lugging a suitcase up the left side. In fact, she was helping another woman carry the giant piece of luggage.

Well, that was a kindness right there – a stranger helping a tourist (or I guess she could be a resident) carry her bags up the stairs. But what made it even nicer was the fact that the helper wasn’t even going the same direction as the woman in need. Because a few minutes later, she showed up on our platform, where we were waiting for our next train. So she must have been on her way somewhere, gotten to the bottom of the stairs en route to our platform, see the woman struggling and decided to help out by going back up the stairs with the suitcase. Even though it was out of her way.

Which is exactly what makes a great kindness – going out of your way to help someone.

Kindness: Manual Labor

This one isn't quite as "unseen" as previous kindnesses, but it deserves some attention none-the-less.

Next week, Husband and I are moving into a new place. We're totally excited about it - more space, cute neighborhood, seemingly awesome landlord. Another tally mark in the 'pro' column is that we're allowed to paint the place. And that's something that can really make a rental feel more like a home. It's currently painted, but more earthy, country than our taste. So we've decided to paint pretty much the whole thing. And we've gathered some troops to help us do it.

When we first started talking about the massive undertaking, I told Husband that we needed to have a painting party and get some friends to come and help. He was skeptical about that, presumably thinking no one would really want to come do that. But he was wrong. In fact, I'd say 80% of invitees are showing up or providing painting supplies.

Now, there are some reasons people may have stepped up:

1. They heart painting. No, seriously, some people do. One friend said she'd help us pack because she loves packing but is not much of a painter. She won't be there, but there are others who adamantly profess their love of painting.
   
2. They love free food and drinks. Really though, that's a lot of work for a few slices of pizza and a Coke. Or beer.
3. They like getting together with friends. More likely. Some people will be meeting new people and some people will be catching up with oldies but goodies.
   
4. They just wanna help a neighbor out. It warms my heart to envision us all in our empty place, working together to accomplish a goal (or 8 goals, as rooms go).

So, those are some of the motivations I'd guess are behind the massive volunteerism - 15 painters + 4 supply donors! Because, when it comes down to it, it's just manual labor. Sweating and getting paint all over yourself. And that's why it's an extra-special kindness. Kindness in an outpouring of friendly love. From the goodness of their hearts. Thanks in advance friends!

Kindness: Translation

The other day when I was taking the T (subway) home, there was a slight commotion on the train.

I was sitting there, zoned-out as usual and engrossed in whatever book I was reading at the time (maybe Alice in Wonderland?) when a woman stepped to the center of the car and spoke up. She asked, "Does any body speak Spanish?" Apparently a tourist on the train needed some translation help.

Now, this was a nice thing for that woman to do to begin with, after having assessed the situation, taking the next step to do something more about it when she obviously was no help linguistically. And it could have gone one of three ways. Maybe someone on the train did speak Spanish, but because of our often aloof and self-centered city mentality, she ducked her head down and continued to peruse the latest issue of Glamour. Maybe someone spoke Spanish and actually took the time to step up to the plate and help out. Or maybe no one spoke Spanish, although I would find that rather shocking.

Luckily for the Spanish tourist, someone did speak Spanish and did step up to el plato. A nice young man dressed in biz-cas attire with a laptop bag slung over his arm said, "I do," and I think even raised his hand like in school. He walked over and helped the tourist suss out the situation, which probably had to do with stations and directions.

Kindness not lost translation.
La amabilidad es universal.

Kindness: A handfull of flowers

On the way to work one morning, Co-worker stopped to smell the flowers. Literally.

There used to be some amazing lilac trees in her neighborhood, at a large manor surrounded by smaller, multi-family homes. But then, the patriarch or matriarch of the family died and the house was passed down to the younger generations. And the younger generations decided they didn't want to deal with it, so they sold the place. And the new owners chopped down all the lilac trees.

So when she came upon a yard with lilacs in full bloom, she stopped to smell the flowers. The lilacs' fragrance filling the air. After pausing for a few moments, she carried on her way.

She was half-way down the block when she heard someone shouting "ma'am" behind her. She kept walking for a while before realizing that the man running up behind her was actually trying to catch her. In his hand, he had lilac clippings for her. He said that he saw her admiring the flowers in his yard and wanted her to have some. She, rightfully, was shocked at the act of kindness.

And so was a woman walking her dog nearby. She said that was the nicest thing she's ever seen.
Women always love flowers. But from a complete stranger, through a random act. Amazing.

Kindness: Clean up

The other morning, on the way to work, I saw something that warmed my heart.

It was a sunny morning that was pretty warm, so I decided to walk to catch the bus into town. Its not too long a walk down a nice street with plenty of trees and fun houses to look at. Sometimes I'm one of a very few people walking, and sometimes I am one of many. It was a one of many morning.

The man in front of me, probably in his late 40s or early 50s, was moving along at a good clip. I noticed him stop and pick up something off the ground. I though, maybe he dropped something. But it happened again and again. About 3 or 4 times in all. And I realized he wasn't picking up something he dropped, but something someone else had dropped. Or discarded. Or tried to recycle. He was picking up litter.

When I walk around the city and my neighborhood, I can't help but notice all the trash that's around. It's not that Boston or Cambridge or Somerville are really dirty cities, it's just that they are cities. Period. And trash gets spilled. Recycled papers blow away in the wind before they can be collected on trash day. And people loose things. And people litter, but probably not much more than anywhere else. It's just that you see it when you walk instead of whizzing by in your car and not noticing.

When I walk and notice trash, I usually don't do too much about it. Sometimes if I see a trashcan that blew over I'll right it as long as there's not horrible mess. Sometimes if a box has blown into the street I'll grab it and put it back in its recycling bin so a car doesn't have to swerve to avoid it. And sometimes I'll pick up a plastic bottle if I see an recycling bin or trash can nearby. But I don't spend part of my morning commute actively picking up litter as I go. But this guy did. Which is great. And makes me think that maybe I should do that sometimes too. Just a little that can make a big difference. Or at least a small one in our neighborhood.

Kindness: Bunny Prints

Every Easter morning, we leave our house to find that someone has visited. Someone or something. Up and down the sidewalk are big, white prints. Big, powdery white prints. Bunny prints. Easter Bunny prints. They are big and...hoppy. This year you could even see where he pounced along a low brick wall.

I like to think that one of the dads in the neighborhood gets up extra-early on Easter and stencils them on with flour. Actually, I like to think it's specifically our old Portuguese granddad neighbor. That makes me smile.

No, I'm not saying that the Easter bunny isn't real, just that, I don't think that he necessarily leaves big bunny prints along the way. I mean, I never had prints in my neighborhood. So, maybe the granddad just gives him a little help. A way to stir kids' imaginations. A way to make their eyes light up with wonder and excitement.

A kindness from a neighbor. A kindness for the kids.

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.

Kindness: Something Free

This story comes from a friend...
Friend was headed to a coffee shop one morning when she realized she didn't have cash on her. She thought, oh well, I'll just charge it. Which is fine unless the coffee shop has a minimum purchase amount. Which this one happened to have. And her lone cup of coffee wasn't nearly up to the minimum.

So, then she decided, instead of buying a pastry or something equally unhealthy from the refrigerated case, she'd just get some coffee beans. She looked at the selection and finally asked the guy behind the counter for his opinion - which one do you recommend?

He gave her some options and then realized that she was just trying to reach the minimum payment required. And he made a decision. He gave her the cup of coffee for free instead of making the larger sale. Which was really nice, and something you don't see often.

I mean, the coffee was probably $3, plus whatever the coffee beans were going to run. But, then again, the actual cost of the cup of coffee was probably pennies. So, he did the nice thing. And maybe something his manager won't like. But it was kind.

Kindness: A Dropped Glove

It's been bitterly cold here this past week. Like, in the teens and twenties with negative wind chills. Accordingly, people have piled on the layers, the scarves, the hats, the gloves...the gloves. There are hundreds, thousands of single gloves and mittens all over the city, all separated from their other half (see my other blog). There was a close call on the bus the other day.

I use my commute time to read. A lot. I'm usually totally zoned out until I look up and am surprised to see that we're at my stop. Such was the case last week. I was on the second leg of my commute home after a long day at work. The bus had just pulled up at the station, and I was lucky enough to grab a single seat. I was back into my tome, Vanity Fair, an 800-page serial collection that my book club decided to read (we were on a literature kick and may have been overly ambitious in our epic selection).

So I was getting back to it, trying to pay close attention to all the crazy characters and events in the book, trying to keep everything straight and keep up with the story, when a cute family got on the bus. Two little kids with their mom, and, by little I don't mean baby-young, but elementary-aged kids that were just super-petite, small. Cute stuff. They sat in the double-row across from me, tired after, presumably, a day at school and an after-school program. Shortly thereafter, a woman took the seat in front of me. All this I was vaguely aware of out of the corner of my eye as the other eye continued to read. As the woman got settled, I saw something flash by. maybe drop. But maybe it was just her arm, going up and down, adjusting her hat. So I kept on reading.

Nothing happened for a little while. I kept reading. Slowly, quietly, the little girl from across the row got up. In her slightly-too-big pink coat, she walked up to the woman and tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me," she said and, pointing to the ground beside her, "your glove." Hardly even a sentence. But, out of all the people sitting around the woman on the bus, the little girl was the only one who bothered to say something to her. To help her stay warm. To make sure that her gloves were not half-a-pair, but a full one.

It was almost a tan leather glove entry for my other blog. But with the help of a soft little voice, it wasn't.

Kindness: A Blind Man

There's a homeless man that hangs out near the subway stop near my office. He sits inside, by the window with his cart of who-knows-what. Sometimes he eats Little Debbie honey buns. Sometimes he has a cellphone plugged in, recharging. Sometimes he's asleep. He's often asleep. He doesn't really talk to anyone.

He seems to be losing his sight. He has a cane - like a old man cane with the curved top. But it's also white and red - like a blind man's cane.

One day last week I noticed he was missing. His cart was there, but he wasn't. Strange. So I continued on my way to the train - down the escalators, down the steps. I was reading my book, waiting on the outbound platform as the inbound train pulled into the station. After it pulled away, I heard tapping. I looked up and there he was. Scanning his way down the platform.

Maybe he'd ridden the train somewhere. Or maybe he'd just been sitting on a bench and decided to get up as the train left. Either way, he was on the move now. Slowly making his way toward the middle of the platform. He kept banging his cane against the tiled wall of the station, feeling his way along.

One of the (scarce) subway station workers walked up to him. Talked to him. Presumably asked him where he was trying to go. He said the elevator. So she took his arm, lead him up the handicapped ramp and pushed the up button on the elevator. She left him there as the doors opened. He made his way cautiously in after the ping of the elevator's arrival. As the doors slowly closed, I wondered how he'd figure out what buttons to push once inside. Since the blindness seemed to be more recent than not, I was pretty sure he didn't know braille. But I guess he figured it out and made it upstairs to be reunited with his cart.

Now, maybe subway workers are required to help handicapped people, whether they ask for aid or not. But, in my experience, they don't, or I don't see it. Unless it's grudgingly, and I mean sighing and muttering, helping a wheelchair onto the bus/train.
So, I'm calling this one an act of kindness. Even is it's expected.

Kindness: Standing up for Tourists

Last week, I was taking the T into town. To work. The second stop on the trip is at a museum. There's not a whole lot else at that stop, so when people get on or off the subway there, they're usually tourists.

That morning, two people got on from that stop, a middle-aged mom and her teenage daughter. The train was kind of full, but not packed. The mom found a single seat in the front of the car, and the daughter stood up near the middle.

A woman, probably mid-twenties, was sitting by herself in a double-seater row. She noticed the two get on. She saw them separate on the train. She stood up and offered the two seats to the tourists. They declined, but she insisted. Which in itself was super-nice because it's not as if the teenager and mom were incapable of sitting apart or standing. They finally, graciously accepted the seats.

They pulled out a map and were looking over it. They seemed to have a rough idea of where they were going and how to get there. The woman who vacated her seat stepped over to help them again. The T, especially the green line, is a little tricky as it goes west. So she helped them plan their trip. To get where they wanted to go.

Just a little morning kindness to start the day.

Kindness: At the Subway Station

Every morning you commute into work in one way or another. Maybe you drive your car, maybe you ride your bike or maybe you take public transit. And there are those people you always see - the couple that runs up to the bus stop with just seconds to spare; the familiar black Volvo that pulls into the parking deck the same time as you; the tall, jolly-looking guy that gets on the same subway car every morning.

Before I got married, I lived near a major subway stop. Down in the station, there are the usual gate agents and ticket machines. But are were also a small scarf stand, a magazine / newspaper stand and a man selling the charity newspapers (here, we call them Spare Change).

As you take the towering escalators downstairs, you can see the Spare Change guy, Harold, at the bottom, smiling, quietly peddling his livelihood. He’s homeless and trying to work for what little money the job can provide him. This Christmas, a few people who regularly ride the commuter rail at that station started talking. They decided to pool some money as a gift for Harold. They got their co-riders in on it. And they were able to give him about $300. He was so surprised and incredibly grateful for the generous gift. He was able to buy a new winter coat, which is great because it’s been an extra-cold winter so far. It’s amazing what people can do when they get together with kindness in their hearts.

Another kind act at the station came from Al, the newspaper salesman. He sells papers and such to the commuters as they rush by in the mornings. The Haitian earthquake this week was an awful event for an already-destitute nation. So Al decided to take up a collection; he put out a jar to help with the relief effort that’s just now beginning. Kindness initiated by one man a world away from the heat and destruction, up in the snowy calm of New England.

*note: These two guys’ stories are not first-hand, but were relayed to me by a co-worker this morning.