A couple of weeks ago I fell while taking a shower and
cracked a rib. Then I fell again on the ice and made it worse. Finally, I
slipped on the stairs and broke the thing. During the big snow we had here a couple of
weeks ago my neighbor saw me hobbling out to the mailbox on my cane and he
helped me. He is a taciturn man who
doesn’t always say much. I tried to
thank him but he was already walking away. Later on, from where I was lying on the couch,
I heard the sound of a mighty machine in front of my house. I looked out of the window. It was my neighbor plowing
my driveway. Later on when the weather
broke, and I was getting around a little better, I took neighbor a bottle of wine to say thank you.” He just smiled that small smile of his, and
said, “You didn’t have to do that.“ I said, “I know but I wanted to.” He replied. “I appreciate it, but this is
just what we all do…or should. You’d do the same for me.” He took the wine. “Let me know if you need a
ride somewhere.” He winked and closed
the door.
That little incident got me thinking about all of the kind
things people have done for me in the past, and there are many. Maybe because we are in the thick of one of
the worst winters on record in the Midwest, the ones that immediately sprung to
mind have to do with the cold.
One of the first really cold winters my family spent in the
old Victorian cottage we had in the city the furnace went out. While I can fix a lot of things, I know
virtually nothing about furnaces. I know how to clean them up, and I know that
sometimes the ceramic piece of the igniter can get worn and break, which is easy
enough to fix. Beyond that I am lost. With
our dead furnace I did all of that but still the thing would not stay lit so I
caved, against my will, and called the repairman. He came in and replaced the thermostat and
some part of the electrical control. We got the thing lit and it stayed on for
about the time it took for him to drive away. I called back and another guy came. He said
the part must be bad, so he replaced it.
He only charged me his time.
Nice. Again, the furnace would
stay on for a minute or two when it cycled through and then go off again. At this point it was night and getting very
cold in the house. I called the service
people again and they said that they would get someone there as soon as
possible, but no definite time when, maybe tomorrow morning. We had my father-in-law come and take Karen and
the, then baby, Ben, to my in-laws’ house. I stayed behind.
That night I put on about five layers of clothes, took every
blanket in the house and went to bed in the highest room where I figured the
most heat would be. I turned off the space heaters I had running because I had
heard far too many tragic stories about their use. As I lay there shivering it was hard not to contemplate
the people who live outdoors and do this every night under bridges and on Lower
Wacker Drive, and wonder how they survive.
It was about the time I was starting to drift off to sleep that there
was a loud knock on the front door. I went
downstairs, opened it a crack to find a man on the porch holding a toolbox. He
was not in uniform but in khaki work pants, a flannel shirt, and a thick
canvass work coat. He asked, “Are you
Mr. Sharpe? I’m Bill from the repair company. “
I must have looked wary because he pulled his work ID from his
pocket. I said, “You don’t look like a
repairman.” He smiled. “It’s because I’m not anymore. I’m the supervisor. I saw your ticket and it
was on my way home. Can I come in please?” I didn’t quite know what to do, but
I was cold enough that I suddenly became very trusting. I let him in. “Show me where it is,” he said.
We went down into the basement and as fast as I have seen
anything he had the thing apart and was shining flashlights into everything,
testing things with a volt meter and cleaning things with a blower. When he was done with that, he stood up and
screwed up his face. I asked, “What do
you think it is? Do you think I’m going to have to get a new one? The last
owners said it was only a few years old when we bought the place.” He put his
hand on his chin. “I’m not sure. It all looks right.” I asked him if he wanted a coffee, and he
said, “Yes, that would be nice.” I went and got him a cup. When I returned, he
was still standing there, staring at the defunct furnace. He took his coffee, had a sip, and kept
staring. All of a sudden he asked, “What kind of chimney you got here?” I said, “It’s brick, old brick. The house is
120 years old.” He started nodding his
head. “Hmmm.” He handed me the coffee
cup went into the furnace found where the chimney vent was, ran his arm up it
and about five large bricks fell out on the floor. He looked at me with a
smile. “Well, there’s your problem. If the vent is clogged then the CO sensor
trips off and won’t let the furnace light.” Sure enough he was right. After we got it started, he sat with me for
about a half an hour to make sure it stayed on.
As he was packing up his tools and getting ready to go I asked, “What is
this going to run me?” He smiled and said,
“Nothing. Our mistake. I’ll make sure you get your money back on the
other stuff.” I stammered, “What about
your time.” He just said, “No. It was on
the way home. Cost me nothing to stop.”
Another time we were driving down to Louisiana for Christmas
and got caught in a horrible ice storm. Cars
were in ditches, trees were across the highway. We had to pull off the road and
try to find a place to stay the night.
The first ramp we could get to was just outside of Hope, Arkansas. There
were two motels right there. At the
first one the man at the desk told us it would be over $200 to spend the night
even though there was no power or heat. We immediately went to the next motel. I was having horrible visions of having to spend
the night in the car as we approached the registration desk. The man there said, “I have no power or heat,
but you are free to spend the night, no charge. We’re heating up all the food
we got in the kitchen on portable gas and you’re free to help yourself.” I
wanted to cry. “Thank you, sir,” was all I could get out. He brought us some
extra blankets; we got dinner for the kids; talked with some of the other
refugees from the storm, and then went to the room he gave us. That night we
all slept in the same bed and I read Harry Potter out loud in the beam of a
flashlight. When it died, we went to
sleep feeling actually pretty warm. The
next morning the manager gave us donuts and sent us on our way with
instructions on where best to go find gas.
He would accept nothing from us more than our thanks. He said, “That’s
just how we do things around here.”
I hear a lot of times people say, “Let’s all do a random act
of kindness today.” While I think it is a good notion but I have a bit of an
issue with this idea. I think about all
of the people who have picked me up when I have fallen down and just kept
moving like they do it every day, because they probably do; the people who without looking up or missing
a beat hold building and elevator doors for others as if it were routine because it is for them, and
the people who always instinctively say, “Can I help you with something?” I think about all of the people who do these
things without any expectation of any sort of reward. It is just who they are
and how they do things. It is how they are wired. No offense against the people who do random
acts of kindness, but why should they be random? Why shouldn’t kindness be the accepted norm;
not the moment to be heralded but the general order of things? Maybe I’m a
Pollyanna in believing there could be an overall kind society, and not one that’s just random. Well, that’s how I think and it doesn’t cost a
thing to act in that belief all of the time.
The way I see it is the alternatives to kindness and caring is indifference
and cruelty, and those concepts really do have their costs.
As my grandmother used to say, “Kindness never killed a cat.”
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