Kindness

My parents subscribe to quite a few magazines; and they use them first in the waiting room of my dad's office, then my mother takes them and reads them, then she gives them to me to read, then I pass them along to Jeff to take to the barber shop. We definitely get our money's worth out of a subscription! :)

In a recent Guideposts magazine, I read a few quotes about kindness that stood out to me. The first is from the book Grace: Quotes & Passages for Heart, Mind, and Soul by Princess Jackson-Smith: "Never underestimate the power of simple courtesy. Your courtesy may not be returned or remembered, but discourtesy will."

The second was engraved on a plaque that a soldier who had served in the Middle East gave to his pen pal when he returned to the States: "Remember there is no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end."

So, I got to thinking about kindness and courtesy. So many examples came to my mind--examples of both discourtesy and remarkable kindness. I remember one time when we were traveling back to the States from Israel, and our original flight was cancelled so all the passengers from our flight had to be herded onto another flight at the last minute. We had a very nice flight attendant who was working hard to make sure that Jeff, Josiah, and I could all sit together. The two seats that she found for us (Josiah was a lap baby at that point) were next to a lady who made it clear that she was NOT pleased at this change of events and that she did NOT want to sit next to a couple with an infant. We apologetically moved into our seats, praying that Josiah would be a little angel so that we would not incur her wrath. As it turned out, he was fabulous; and the lady relaxed, complimented us on the good behavior of our baby, and even offered to take a diaper to the bathroom trash for us after we had changed his diaper.

Thinking about traveling brings back a multitude of memories! So many times, God blessed us by granting us favor with officials so we could skip ahead in lines or somehow avoid some of the strain and delay of traveling. I remember being in the airport in Cyprus, and a wonderfully kind woman coming to us as we stood in the very long customs line. She saw we had a small child, and she told us to follow her as she helped us move to the front of the line. We were so grateful!

I remember another scene from the Cyprus airport. This was a different occasion, and it still rips my heart in two as I recall the events. Again, we were standing in a long customs line; and with nothing else to do, we were glancing around at the other people in the large room. Suddenly, we heard loud shouts and saw quite a commotion. An African man was being told that he could not enter Cyprus and that he would be returned to his home nation. He was frantic--desperate--I don't even know what words to use to describe how urgently he was begging and pleading to not be sent back to his country. Of course, we only had a tiny glimpse of the situation so we didn't understand exactly what was going on; but it was easy to jump to the conclusion that he would be facing persecution, perhaps death, certainly extreme hardship when he returned to his nation. I know that the customs officials were only doing their jobs--they have rules to follow--but oh, I wanted to weep as I thought about what might await him. Events like that helped us to not take our freedom as Americans for granted. So many times I thought about how we were the owners of something that almost everyone in the world would like to have: an American passport.

To return to the original subject, however, the other time of life that I think about when kindness comes to mind is childbirth. The events surrounding the births of Josiah and David are so highly significant that every little thing about it becomes a big deal. The person who brought me food in the middle of the night after David's birth when I was ravenously hungry is an absolute saint. The nurse who wheeled me into a hallway after I gave birth to him and left me there without any explanation of where they had taken David and Jeff or when someone would come to take me to my room is a horrible person! Not really, of course, but that's how things get exaggerated in my mind. :) I still remember the name of the nurse that helped me through Josiah's birth. Her name is Stephanie, and she lands a place on the incredibly wonderful side of things. The midwife who was urging me to push David out while lying on my back in the hospital bed and was not willing to have me stand up to get him out rates in the terrible category. Our friends from church who brought us meals for two weeks after Josiah was born have a special place forever in our hearts as we continue to think of them with deep gratitude. The doctors and nurses who ignored us, delayed us, made us jump through hoop after hoop after hoop when we wanted to check out "early" after David's birth definitely land in the horrendous position. The lady in hospital administration in Tel Aviv who cheerfully helped us each step of the way as we navigated a foreign system of insurance, checking in while in labor, registering for a birth certificate, etc. is an angel in my mind. Such extremes!!! :) I wonder if labor and delivery nurses realize how much of an impact they can make on a woman's life. I know in our case, these stories are an eternal part of our family history; and I'll never forget the kindness of a nurse like Stephanie. It was all in a day's work for her, but a forever moment for me.